She Drives Me Crazy
by MP301798100
Summary: AU. MerDer. When Derek cancels his wedding, he wants sex, but no commitments. Meredith agrees to give him that because she is in love....
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I most certainly do not own a single one of the Greys anatomy characters, SADLY. **

**The real Grey's Anatomy belong to Shonda,**

**So, here it is. My first fic. It's a AU. MerDer and MATURE!!!**

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Derek Shepherd stood frozen in the hallway of his fiancée's house. His skin prickled with some unsettling emotion. It wasn't really anger or grief. It sure as hell wasn't jealousy.

If Derek hadn't known better, he might have sworn it was . . . relief. He shook his head at the thought. No, he'd wanted to marry Addison. He'd accepted it as his fate and even viewed it as part of a grand plan for the future. Not really _his _grand plan. But rather _their_ family's grand plan.

Derek and Addison grew up together. Derek liked Addison, respected her and her parents, and his mother adored her. Almost from the time he'd met Addison, everyone had assumed they'd eventually marry. In one month, they would have…

But now . . .

Derek moved toward the obvious sounds of soft moans, low encouragement, and rustling sheets. He wasn't in any particular hurry, because he already knew what he'd find

He was wrong. _Very, very wrong._

Oh, Addison was in bed all right, doing exactly what he'd suspected she was doing: having very passionate sex, when all he ever got from her was perfunctory attendance. It was her partner who was so unexpected.

Not that it really mattered.

Derek's eyes narrowed as Addison gave a particularly ar­dent moan and bowed her slender body in a violent cli­max. He watched, unmoved.

Faced with such a bizarre circumstance, Derek pondered what to do, and settled on propping one shoulder on the door frame, crossing his arms, and waiting. Surely he'd be noticed soon enough, and at the moment, his territorial nature rejected the idea of offering them privacy. After all, Addison was his fiancée—or rather, she had been.

That had all changed now.

Her skin dewy from exertion, her eyes dazed and soft in a way Derek had never experienced, Addison leaned back and sighed. "Oh God, that was incredible."

"Mmm," came the husky, satisfied reply. "I can give you more."

Looking scandalized and anxious, Addison purred, "Yes?" and came up on one elbow to smile at her lover.

That's when she noticed Derek.

Addison's face paled and her kiss-swollen lips opened in a shocked, horrified _oh. _

Her lover, with his dark eyes glittering and bold, lounged back in antagonistic si­lence.

Amazingly enough, Addison snatched up the sheet to con­ceal her body . . . from Derek.

Derek shook his head in disgust—most of it self-directed. He'd been a royal fool. He'd treated her gently, with deference, with patience. And she'd cheated on him.

"Don't faint, Addison. I'm not going to cause a scene." Derek didn't even bother to glance at the other man—there was no challenge there.

Instead, Derek lent all his attention to the woman he'd expected to be his wife. "Under the circumstances, I'm sure you'll agree the wedding is off."

Addison gasped in panic. Having said his piece, Derek turned on his heel to stalk away. He was aware of the race of his pulse, the pounding of determination that surged in his blood. It wouldn't be pleasant, ending elaborate plans already in progress. Addison's parents, Marta and John, had gone all out on preparations for the celebration. They'd rented an enor­mous hall and purchased a wedding gown that had cost more than many houses and guests were invited from around the country

His mother . . . God, Derek didn't even want to think about Mary's reaction. She fancied herself a leader of the community, and she was tight with Marta and John, treating them like relatives as well as her dearest friends. In many ways, she already thought of Addison as her own.

Derek bounded down the spiralling carpeted stairs two at a time, anxious to get away from the house so his mind could quit churning and settle on a course of action. He'd learned at an early age, while being shuffled from one fos­ter home to another, to make cool, calculated decisions and then to analyze the repercussions so that nothing could ever again take him by surprise.

This time, he had few choices, so his decisions were easy. He wouldn't marry Addison now, but at the same time, he hated to disappoint his mother.

He'd just started to pull the front door open when a small hand grabbed his upper arm. "Derek!"

Damn. He'd really hoped to avoid this confrontation. He sighed and turned.

Addison stared up at him with wet eyes and a trembling mouth. Her fair skin blanched whiter than usual, with none of the rosy glow he'd grown used to. She wore only a hastily tied robe that emphasized the swells and hollows of her body—a body he'd once thought very sexy. Her long red hair was becomingly tousled and as Derek watched, she released him and ran a shaking hand over her forehead.

Her shoulders slumped and she looked down at her bare feet. "I'm sorry."

A cynical smile curled Derek's mouth. He could just imagine how sorry Addison felt right now. How could he ever have considered making her his wife? "Sorry you were caught?"

She clasped her hands together, "There's more than just our wedding at stake, Derek, you know that. My parents ..." She shuddered. "Oh God, I can't imagine how they'll react. Everyone has been planning for us to marry for so long."

Derek snorted. "Your folks accepted me, Addison, mostly out of respect for my mother. I doubt they'll be broken-hearted not to have me in the family. There're plenty of other guys they'd rather you marry and we both know it."

"They love Mary." Addison looked at him, her expres­sion fierce. "_I_ love Mary."

At least that much was true, Derek decided. "Yeah, my mother loves you, too. She dotes on you, and I doubt that'll change."

Addison swallowed hard. "This will kill her."

The laugh took him by surprise. "Kill my mother ? She'll outlive us all."

"Derek, please, don't do this."

"This?"

Big tears ran down her cheeks and she quivered all over, truly beside herself, pleading. Why the hell did women al­ways resort to tears to get their way?

"Please don't ruin me. Don't ruin my family. I can't bear the thought of everyone—"

Realization dawned, and with it, a heavy dose of dis­gust. Didn't Addison know him at all?

Derek looked at her sad, panicked eyes and accepted that no, she didn't. She'd have married him, but she didn't really know him.

Just as she'd never really wanted him.

He said, "Hey," very softly, and watched her try to gather herself. Any second now he'd have a hysterical woman on his hands.

Looking at it from her perspective, now knowing what she expected of him, Derek could understand why.

Feeling a surge of compassion, Derek took her delicate hands in his. "Listen to me, Addison. The wedding is off; there's no changing that. But why we ended it is no one's business but our own, all right?"

Her mouth opened and she gulped air. She wiped her eyes on her shoulder, sniffed loudly. "You mean that? You really mean that?"

Hell, he was used to worse hardships than censure. Addison had led a pampered life protected from ugliness, never forced to face the harsh realities life often dealt.

Derek had learned to survive almost as a toddler. He could shoulder the heat much more easily than she. "Yeah, why not?" Then he added, "I'll break the news to every­one if you want."

She pulled her hands free and searched in her pocket for a tissue. "I don't believe you." A shaky laugh trickled out. "You're too damn good, Derek Shepherd."

Now there was a joke. "No, I just don't relish being hu­miliated either."

Rather than make her laugh, she covered her face and sobbed. "I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean for this to hap­pen."

"We were obviously never meant to marry, Addie, you know that." It was Derek's turn to glance up the stairs, but her lover wisely stayed out of his sight. Derek shook his head, still bemused by her choice. "Your secret is safe with me."

She threw herself into his arms, leaving him to awk­wardly deal with her gratitude. Derek wanted only to es­cape. Even at the best of times, he'd never totally felt at ease with Addison. She was too refined, too polished and proper—the opposite of him.

Derek set her aside and said, "Maybe you should think about a quick trip, until you have time to figure out what you want to say. I'll wait to tell Mary until tomorrow, to give you time to get away."

She managed a pathetic smile. "Thank you, Derek. Really."

Addison had just saved him from making a horrible mis­take. Though he felt like thanking her right back, Derek merely nodded and walked out. For more than the obvi­ous reason waiting upstairs, tying himself to Addison would have been a disaster.

For one thing, he didn't love her. If he had, he wouldn't be so easy right now. He should have realized that sooner!

As he went down the walk, he felt the sun on his face, the chill of a late spring breeze, the freshness of the day—but he didn't feel hurt or heartsick. He felt no real sense of loss.

For another thing, sex with Addison had offered no more than base physical release. She'd never blown his mind, never burned him up. During their engagement, he'd been faithful, and he'd made do with the few quick, passionless screws he'd gotten from her.

But God, he missed the burning satisfaction of hot, sweaty, grinding sex. He missed the bite of a woman's nails, her teeth, when she felt too much pleasure to be gen­tle. He missed the clasp of sleek thighs wrapped around his waist and the softer, hungrier clasp of a woman's body on his cock. He missed the throaty, raw groans during a woman's climax.

He missed the wetness.

Addison had been a lady through and through, even while under him. Ha! He was a blind fool. A lucky blind fool, because now he was free.

It wouldn't be easy, but he'd deal with the families and the gossip sure to arise—and then he'd find himself a wild woman, a woman who matched him in every way. He'd ride her hard until he'd worked off every ounce of tension. Then _he'd _be the one to leave _her._

Derek's last thought as he drove away from his ex-fiancée's house was that he could hardly wait.

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**No fear! Meredith will be in the next chapter**


	2. Chapter 2

Meredith was so furious with herself, she felt like spitting. The near-torrential rainfall didn't slow her down as she splashed her way up the sidewalk to Derek's building, her every step punctuated by a passionate rage. Eight days. Eight hellish days she'd been away, probably when Derek had needed her most. She'd expected to come home to a list of things yet to be done for the wedding, because Mary did love to give her lists.

Instead, she'd come home to the tail end of an uproar.

Damn her car for breaking down, damn Mary for being a hard-headed matriarch, and damn everyone for ever doubting him.

Poor Derek. Poor honourable, loyal Derek.

He _needed _her.

Spurred on by her convictions, Meredith hurried on. She slipped as she jerked the foyer door open and bounded in­side onto slick marble tile. She'd have landed on her well-padded behind if it weren't for Maxwell, the doorman, catching her arm and wrestling her upright.

"Here now!" Maxwell said in some surprise, maintain­ing his hold on her arm as Meredith started to dart past.

It took him a moment to recognize her with her hair hanging in long, sodden ropes in her face and her clothes saturated through and through, making them baggier than usual. When he did recognize her, his old eyes widened.

"Ms. Grey! What in the world are you doing out in this storm?"

Meredith forced herself to slow down. "Sorry, Maxwell. Is Derek in?"

"Yes, ma'am. He's with his brother."

_Thank God. _Meredith would rather have had her visit with Derek in private, without Mark as an audience, but at least Derek was home. Besides, she should have known Mark would be close at hand. He very much respected his "brother", and always offered unconditional support. Mark was raised by the Shepherd family when his parents died when he was 5 years old. Derek, older, always regarded as his little brother.

Meredith was relieved that Derek hadn't been all alone dur­ing the ordeal.

"My stupid car broke down a few blocks from here, she told Maxwell. "I'll call triple A from Derek's."

"Should I announce you?"

Derek had a standing rule that his family was always welcome. Meredith was in no way a blood relative, but as his mother's personal secretary, Derek granted her the same importance. She'd known Derek for three years. She'd loved him just about that long.

Not that she would ever tell anyone, especially not Derek.

"No, I'll go on up. But thanks."

The doorman shook his head as she turned away, prob­ably thinking she had less sense than a turkey to go run­ning through the stormy weather. But she simply hadn't possessed the patience to wait in her car for a cab. A little rain wouldn't melt her, and since hearing what Mary had done yesterday, how she'd treated Derek because of the break up, Meredith had been filled with a driving urgency to reach him, to let him know that at least one person still. . . what? Still believed in him, still trusted in his innate honour?

The elevator moved so slowly, Meredith couldn't stop tap­ping her foot, which jiggled drips of rainwater from her body onto the elevator floor. She now stood in a puddle.

The second the doors opened, she leaped out, then had to leap back in when she realized it was the wrong floor. The woman getting on the elevator gave her a funny look but said nothing, even when she had to step around the soggy carpeting.

This time she checked the floor before getting off. Every step she took caused her feet to squish inside her pumps and left damp tracks across the carpeting. When she reached Derek's door, she drew a deep breath to fortify herself, pushed her long, wet hair behind her ears, and rapped sharply.

Nothing.

She knocked again, and even pushed the doorbell a few times, but still there was no answer. Refusing to give up, Meredith tried the door and found it unlocked. She crept in­side, calling out, "Derek?" but no one answered. And then she heard voices coming from the balcony.

Meredith hurried through the apartment, noticing empty beer bottles everywhere, as well as pizza boxes and chip bags thrown about. A mostly empty, dried-up container of sour-cream-and-chive dip was half tucked into the sofa cushions.

Meredith wondered if Derek had thrown a party, if he had actually celebrated the break up. It seemed unlikely. For many years now everyone had expected him and Addison to marry and then be blissfully happy in their picture-perfect lives. The break up had naturally thrown everyone for a loop, Meredith especially.

She finally located him.

Derek sat on the covered balcony with Mark, and together they made such an impressive sight they stole Meredith's breath. Oh boy, Derek was a man to make anyone proud.

The two brothers were talking, oblivious to Meredith's presence, and she studied them. Their large, bare feet were propped on the edge of the railing, getting rained on. Both of them lounged back in chairs, Mark with his tilted on its back legs.

Derek had a long-necked bottle of beer dangling be­tween his fingers, his other hand resting limply on his hard abdomen. He wore faded jeans, a gray sweatshirt with the sleeves cut off, and nothing else. His silky, dark hair was rumpled, his face shadowed with beard stubble. His entire body bespoke weariness.

He was the sexiest, most appealing man she'd ever known.

Meredith sighed.

"To hell with all of 'em," Mark said. His words were slurred and thick and angry.

Meredith tucked in her chin. Uh-oh. Mark sounded. . . drunk. Really drunk.

Like Derek, he seldom imbibed, so this must be a ... commiseration-drinking binge? She didn't really know men well enough to know what their habits might be, but it seemed feasible.

She looked behind her, and this time counted the empty beer bottles littering the apartment. Oh Lord! They must have been at it since last night. Had Derek contacted Mark directly after leaving Mary's? Had they been drinking ever since?

Wide-eyed, Meredith turned back to the brothers.

Derek's voice, too, sounded slurred when he said, "It took them all by surprise, that's all."

"Yeah, so they jump to the conclusion that you're a heartbreaker. The asses."

"Heartbreaker?" Derek made a sound that wasn't quite a laugh, wasn't quite a curse. "Oh, they had better de­scriptions than that, believe me. You'd think I jilted her at the altar the way they went on."

Meredith swallowed her choking pain and renewed annoy­ance. Mary had told her all about the awful meeting, with Derek summoned to her house to face Addison, along with her mother and father and Mary herself. He'd stood alone against them, bearing their insults and their blame without defending himself—the same way he'd faced the world most of his life.

They'd jointly called him to account, and when Derek had refused to explain why he'd ended the engagement, Mary had threatened to disown him.

No. Meredith curled her arms around the ache in her stom­ach, the pain in her heart. She would never let that happen. She'd make Mary relent. As her per­sonal secretary, she carried some clout.

At least she hoped she did.

"Situations like this," Mark explained, waving his beer for emphasis, "are why I like not to have the same blood as Mary."

Derek slanted his younger brother a look. "You know she has to be careful, Mark. In her heart, Mary knows you're family, but she's stubborn and cautious." Derek shrugged. "Mary has more pride than most."

"Ha! She's a—"

"Careful." Derek narrowed his eyes. "I'm madder than hell at her right now, too, but she's still my mother, _your _mother."

"Not that she'll admit it."

Derek ignored that to add, "Just as you're my brother."

"Adopted brother." Mark lifted the beer and guzzled down the remainder, then belched.

"Genetic, adopted, who gives a rat's ass? You're my brother, and regardless of any damn blood test, we both know it."

Meredith's heart expanded in her chest, her throat clogged with emotion. Yes, Mark was Derek's brother, and Mary's son.

"We need more beer," Derek announced, and dropped his empty bottle with a clank onto the balcony's stone floor.

_More beer!_

"You'll have to get it," Mark said without moving. "I can barely feel my legs."

"Wimp." Derek started to rise with a lusty groan.

"No." Meredith stepped forward, drawing the attention of both men. They slued around in their chairs and stared at her in muddled surprise.

"Hey," Derek said. Then, with some confusion: "Where'd you come from?"

"The front door wasn't locked."

"It wasn't?"

Disapproving, Meredith said, "I think you've both had quite enough to drink."

The two men shared a look, and Mark grinned. "Ah, Meri, did someone try to drown you, sweetheart?"

"Ha, ha." She made a face at Mark. He was forever teas­ing, and usually she liked it. "No, I got caught in the rain." Self-conscious, she pushed her hair behind her ears again. Her sweater stuck to her breasts and her back and her long skirt clung to her thighs, her belly. "My stupid car broke down," she explained, while trying to make herself less noticeable.

Derek straightened, then came to his feet with stiff-legged purpose. "Why the hell didn't you call me? I'd have picked you up."

He swayed, and Meredith lifted a brow. "In your condi­tion? I do believe that's not only dangerous but illegal."

He cupped her chin and leaned closer. "I'd have called a cab for you."

Just that simple touch on her chin and Meredith 's heart was ready to pop. With a shuddering breath, she lifted herself away from him and busied herself by picking up empty bottles.

All around them, the storm raged, spraying into the bal­cony every so often, lighting the early evening sky with a brilliant display of electrical energy. The thunder rolled al­most continually, rattling the windows and vibrating the floor, which explained why they hadn't heard her knock.

"It doesn't matter," Meredith remarked when both men continued to watch her, putting her on edge. "I'm here now."

She started back into the apartment, aware of them tot­tering along behind her. "Besides, I was in a hurry."

Mark propped himself up against a wall "Yeah?" he asked. "How come?"

Distracted, Meredith asked, "How come what?"

"How come you were in such an all-fire hurry?"

The reason for her visit flooded back to Meredith and she gasped, almost dropping the bottles. Derek relieved her of several and plopped them onto the dinette table. "Meredith ? You okay?"

"Ohmigod," she said, and turned to Derek, grasping his sweatshirt with both hands, holding on to him while she stared up into his handsome face. "I almost forgot when I saw you both sitting out there, looking so cute in your drunken revelry."

Mark chuckled, muttering, _"Cute," _under his breath, but Derek shook his head. "Quit pulling on my clothes and tell me what you forgot."

_"Almost _forgot." Then Meredith softened with emotion. "Oh, Derek. I am so, so sorry."

He and Mark shared another look, this one of concern and male speculation. "For what, exactly?"

"For _what? _For what's happened, that's what!" Her hands, curled in his shirt, thumped against his chest in em­phasis. "For how Mary jumped to the wrong conclu­sions and how everyone is acting and—"

Derek pressed two big, warm fingers against her lips, making her toes curl inside her waterlogged shoes and her belly curl in sensual delight. "What conclusion did Mary jump to? And how in hell do you think everyone is treat­ing me?"

His fingers were still over her mouth and Meredith swal­lowed hard, then reached for his thick wrist and gently drew his hand down. Oh Lord, the man made her shake with . . . with all kinds of things.

"Mary wrongly assumed you were to blame for the break up. And from what she told me, Miss Montgomery's family was no better." Meredith's temper ignited anew at her own re­minder of how he'd been treated. "You'd think none of them knew you at all!"

Mark pushed away from the wall. His walk was only slightly steadier than the moment before. "You're saying you don't blame him?"

Meredith whirled on him. "Mark Sloane ! You should cer­tainly know better!"

"Hey—" He held up both hands, on the verge of laugh­ter. "I didn't say I blamed him."

"Well, I would hope not."

Derek crossed his arms and propped his hip against the dinette table. He still wavered a little, rocking back and forth. "So who do you blame?"

"Why ... no one." Meredith flapped a hand. "Oh, I heard all about Addison weeping and being devastated and all that. Mary said you've humiliated her in front of everybody by crying off after all the arrangements had been made, and that Addison's emotionally crushed and may never recover. And I feel horrible for her, I really do."

Mark laughed again.

"But I know you both must have had your own reasons. At the very least, I know you wouldn't have crushed her unless you had no other choice."

Meredith squealed when Mark slipped his thick arms around her from behind and lifted her off her feet in a crushing hug. Mark's bear hug so surprised her, Meredith's arms and legs sort of stuck straight out, like a strangled starfish trying to gain balance.

Rainwater squished out of her clothing, then trickled down her body and onto Mark. He put a smacking kiss on the side of her neck, immobilizing Meredith with the impul­siveness of it. She could count on one hand the number of times a gorgeous man had kissed her neck.

Heck, she could count with one finger because this time was a first.

Derek continued to study her, scrutinizing her every re­action, which made Mark's behaviour inconsequential. She began to burn, and knew she had to gain control of the sit­uation.

She cast a wary glance at Mark, who, although he re­leased her, continued to grin like a rogue. She looked back at Derek, and way up, to see his expression. His muscled arms were crossed over his chest, his intense blue eyes nar­rowed, watchful. He looked bemused and something else, perhaps . . . tender.

"I'd have been here sooner," Meredith told him in a croak, trying to collect herself. "But I was out of town."

"I remember," Derek murmured, still holding her fixed in his gaze. "Mary had you doing some headhunting, didn't she?"

"Yes, for a new chef for the foundation and the clinic she'd heard about. He agreed to her terms and she, ah, hired him. He starts right away."

"Great."

Derek sounded more disgusted than enthused. It had been Derek's job for years now to do all the hiring.

Meredith didn't want him sidetracked with worries about that now. "But that's not important."

"No? What IS important?"

Meredith chewed her lip, trying to decipher Derek's mood. He had the most stony, unreadable expression when he chose, and he'd just gone into full conceal mode. He ap­peared relaxed, unconcerned, no more than curious.

But oh, those blue eyes of his, shadowed by his long thick lashes, continued to burn. And she felt the heat right down to the core of her being. She glanced at Mark, but he just winked, his own brown eyes alight with mis­chief.

"It's important," Meredith said, "that you know everyone doesn't blame you."

"But everyone does."

"Not me."

Mark again laced his arms around her and propped his chin on her crown. "Why is that, sugar?"

Oh, please, Meredith thought in a bit of a panic; Mark didn't really think she could talk with him lined up behind her and Derek in front of her? She felt surrounded by testosterone, hemmed in by machismo. Impossible.

It was distracting enough that Mark had a body like a steel statue and was sexy to boot. It was doubly bad that he touched her in ways she'd never been touched before. It more than rattled her.

But while Mark could unsettle her with his dynamic pres­ence, he'd never excited her emotions the way Derek did, never made her alternately hot and cold and so physically _aware._

Yet, there Derek stood a mere foot in front of her, bare feet braced apart, dark hair damp from the humidity, eyes as hot as a blue flame. Meredith 's heart pattered, and she wondered that Mark didn't feel it.

Then Derek slanted his brother an amused look. "You're going to make her faint, Mark."

"That right?" Mark peeked over her shoulder to see Meredith's face. She could feel his breath on her cheek. "You feelin' faint, honey?"

"I, uh .. ."

"Knock it off, Mark." Derek watched her as if he knew what she felt and even while he smiled at her predicament, he wanted to protect her.

Meredith drew a shuddering breath. "I'm, uh, not used to guys touching me."

Derek's eyes glittered. "Huh. Now there's a confession."

Before Meredith could recover from the suggestion in Derek's tone, Mark saved her by pretending to be shocked. He said, very theatrically, "No! I won't believe it, Meri."

Meredith didn't mind Mark poking fun. Almost every other twenty-five-year-old woman she knew had left virginity far behind.

Without looking at Derek, she said, "Afraid so." Then, to try to relieve the tension, she added, "At least, not big, gorgeous, sexy guys like yourself."

"You hittin' on me?" Mark asked with a teasing grin. He could be such a charming scamp.

"No," Meredith assured him, "because I'd have no idea what to do with you."

He laughed and shook his head, then touched her cheek before moving away. "She's all yours, Derek."

Derek smiled. Seeing that smile, Meredith gulped.

Apparently unaware of Meredith's embarrassment, or at the least not caring, Mark added, "I suggest you get her out of those wet clothes before you continue your interroga­tion." He glanced back at Meredith over his shoulder and bobbed his eyebrows. "I'd offer to help, you know, but I gotta get going. Hell, I'm so drunk, I hope I make it to my own bed."

Meredith immediately turned and snagged the back waist­band of ¨Mark's jeans. She held on. "You can't drive in your condition!"

Mark was so unsteady on his feet he almost fell into Meredith when she abruptly halted his forward momentum, causing him to stumble back two steps. He caught himself at the last second and laughed. "All I'm gonna do, Meri, is pick up my shoes, shuffle to the elevator, and then ask Maxwell to call me a cab, assuming I make it to the lobby in an upright position. Derek here made me drink more than I'm used to."

"Made you?" asked Derek with one glossy black brow raised. "I seem to remember you're the one who showed up with the first case of beer."

_First _case of beer? Meredith still held on to Ben. "I'll take you to Maxwell."

Mark looked down at her hands, latched tight to his waistband. "Turn me loose, woman. I can manage."

She gave Derek a questioning look.

"He'll be fine," Derek promised. "I'll call down and tell Maxwell to watch for him."

"Well, all right." Meredith loosened her hold and Mark floundered forward. He fetched up against the couch, righted himself, then located his shoes. He didn't bother to put them on.

"You two kids behave now, okay?"

Derek, who was only slightly steadier than Mark, went to his brother to help him out, then used the intercom to call down to Maxwell.

While they were both occupied Meredith picked up an empty beer case and began stowing bottles inside. She was only half done when Derek returned.

He still had that awesome fire burning in his eyes and it made her very nervous. And very, very aware of him as a man "You heard what Mark said," Derek told her while scruti­nizing her every movement.

"Uh, no." Meredith licked her dry lips. "What did he say?"

Derek started forward, faltering a little but with definite purpose. And damn if he didn't have a small smile, tilting his head. "You're all..." His gaze dipped over her body outlined in the clinging clothes—top to bottom and back again, making her heart leap with embarrassment. His eyes met hers. ". . .wet."

Meredith 's mouth opened, but not a single word emerged.

Derek kept advancing, closer and closer, despite the way she instinctively backed up. Until he stood directly in front of her, until the power of him, the heat and the deep male scent of him touched her all over.

Her breath caught, her pulse tripped and tumbled.

"Meri," he murmured, and he touched her cheek, looking at her in a way he'd never looked at her before, in a way no man had ever looked at her. His smile deepened, his eyes brightened. "You're going to have to lose the wet clothes."

Meredith closed her eyes and wished like hell he wasn't drunk. But wishing didn't work. He _was _drunk—the fact that he'd said such an outrageous thing to her proved it— and that meant she couldn't take advantage of him, no matter what he said, no matter how badly she wanted to.

Well, damn.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N : So, here the chapter 3. ****MerDer... ****Enjoy !!**

Even in his inebriated state, Derek knew that half of what he said and did was out of character. Or rather, it was out of character for the man he'd tried to be, to live up to his mother's specifications.

But for the first time in years, he felt like himself again. He was a free man, allowed to do as he pleased, with whomever he pleased. He owed Addison nothing, and after his mother's explosion, he didn't owe her anything either.

In his typical fashion, he'd carefully considered how to handle things after being disowned. Only then had he re­acted. He'd already set his plans into motion, and before long, he'd be completely free of Mary. If they had a rela­tionship after that, if his mother claimed him at all, it'd be because she wanted to, not because she needed to.

Because he lived without illusions, he was prepared for either reaction.

He hadn't been prepared for Meredith . She'd thrown him for an emotional loop, giving him her unquestioning sup­port and loyalty. As an illegitimate and late addition to the Shepherd family, loyalty meant the world to Derek.

Probably because he'd never had it.

Mary had recently proven he couldn't have it from her, no matter how many different ways he bent himself— which was why he wouldn't bend for her anymore.

Only his brother had ever given him that kind of unconditional support.

And now Meredith.

Mary had made an excellent choice the day she'd hired Meredith Grey. Derek remembered sitting in on the interview, watching the dark bond hair twenty-two-year-old, fresh out of college without a single reference. She was alone in the world; her parents had passed away in an ac­cident years before. At that moment, he'd felt a strange affinity to her. They were both alone, both stubborn and determined.

Meredith had lifted her rounded chin, met Mary's shrewd gaze squarely and listed what she considered her best qual­ities.

Hardworking, driven, intelligent, rational. . . and loyal.

That thought made Derek frown. He caught Meredith's hand and tugged her with him toward his bedroom. "Does Mary know you're here?"

Derek practically dragged her, she showed so much re­sistance. But he didn't let up. He liked the feel of her soft hand in his, and he especially liked the way she looked at him with those enormous green eyes. They were sexy, no two ways about it. He'd always liked her eyes as much as her determination and backbone.

Derek especially liked them now.

Of course, he was beyond horny, on the ragged edge, but it was more than that. It was ... he didn't know what the hell to label it, and at the moment he didn't even care to try. "Meri?"

He pulled her into his bedroom and turned to face her.

She looked up at him through her lashes. Long wet ropes of twisted dark blond hair clung to her face and throat. She glanced around his room and licked her lips. "What?"

"Does Mary know you're here?" he repeated.

"She knows."

Derek crossed his arms. "I bet she was none too happy."

That adorable stubborn chin of hers lifted. "I'm a grown woman, Derek Shepherd. I make my own decisions."

Shaking his head, Derek turned away to rummage in a drawer. "Meaning she forbade you to come here, huh?"

Meredith started to inch back when he located a white T-shirt and pulled it out. He caught her by the upper arm. She was . . . very soft. And warm and intensely female.

He could smell her wet hair, her damp skin, and his blood burned.

It hadn't been that long since he'd walked in on Addison, but there'd been much to do, to deal with, and no time to find a woman. Knowing he was now free to indulge his true nature made it doubly hard to wait. He was so frus­trated, so sexually primed after the long deprivation of his engagement and the emotional drain of ending it, he felt ready to go nuts.

But he had to remember that this was Meredith , his ­mother's secretary, a gentlewoman, a very respectable and innocent woman.

_I'm not used to men touching me. _God, the very idea of being her first made his imagination shoot into overdrive and all his muscles clench.

"Meredith," Derek said, his voice too harsh, "are you going to be in trouble for coming here?"

She lifted one shoulder. "I don't know. I'll deal with that later. Not that it matters." That ferocious, protective glimmer lit her eyes. "None of them had any right to crucify you. I couldn't stand by and let you think that we all felt the same."

"Because you don't?"

"Of course not."

"Because you know me so well?"

She stammered, then snapped her teeth together. "Derek Shepherd, I've known you for three years. You're like me in a lot of ways. Hardworking and proud and conscientious. You would never do anything so reprehensible as breaking an engagement without a good solid reason."

God, her faith in him felt good. It seeped into him, warming him from within, easing some of his roiling ten­sion.

Derek prided himself on his ability to analyze situations, to calmly make sound decisions. He couldn't analyze Meredith or how she made him feel.

Without another thought, Derek bent and kissed her.

Meredith leapt back so quickly, she lost her balance and landed on her butt. Dazed by her reaction, Derek frowned, bent to haul her upright, and lost his balance, too, almost landing on her. She stiffened her arms against him until he'd regained his equilibrium and straightened back up.

"Derek, really!" Meredith sputtered from her position at his feet.

Hoping to sound gentle rather than predatory, Derek stared down at her and said, "Out of those wet clothes, babe."

She lumbered upright in Meredith less haste and clasped her hands together over her sweater, as if to keep it on her per­son.

What? Did Meredith think he meant to attack her? Hell, he could barely keep from falling on his face. Not that the idea of having her under him didn't appeal. It did. In a big way. But Derek doubted he was up to the performance. Meri was the type of woman who deserved to be treated special.

She was not a woman for a quick lay.

Still, he noticed the frantic rise and fall of her magnifi­cent breasts. Unable to stop staring, wondering how she'd look buck naked, Derek asked, "What's wrong, Meredith ?"

Derek actually heard her gulp. It had been a long, long time since he'd had to deal with a timid woman. He kind of liked it. Before becoming engaged to Addison—and even a few times after—women had come on to him with blatant confidence in their skills. Even Addison, though reserved in her genteel nature, had never doubted her appeal or her in­fluence.

Meredith , however, looked like a bewildered rabbit, ready to bolt if he said boo.

_She hadn't looked like that earlier, when she'd vehe­__mently defended his abused honor. _Derek grinned. Yeah, he liked it; he liked her, a lot.

"There's no reason for me to change my clothes," Meredith muttered, "because I'll just get wet again when I leave."

Derek was drunk, no two ways about it, but he wasn't dead. Meredith felt like a balm, like a ray of warm sunshine in the middle of the storm, and he wanted her. He waited till she looked up, then snared her gaze. Her dark eyes widened warily. "I don't want you to leave, Meredith ."

"You don't?"

Derek felt himself sway and squared his shoulders. "Will you stay with me, Meri?"

Her gaze skipped to the bed behind him. "Here?" she squeaked.

That single word sounded like a suggestion, a seduc­tion. His gut tightened. "Yeah."

Meredith looked scandalized and ... maybe full of yearning? Damn, Derek wished his head wasn't so foggy with drink. He had the feeling that dealing with Meredith would prove tricky. Especially since at the moment he wasn't even sure of his own mind, much less hers. He only knew he wanted, and the wanting was somehow tied to Meredith .

For now.

"Why?" Meredith asked, still holding herself and still very uncertain.

"I need you."

He said it without thinking about it, and Meredith ap­peared to melt right before his eyes. Her knees went weak and she leaned on the dresser while devouring him with her deep dark gaze. Her lush mouth relaxed, her face soft­ened, her entire expression became one of tenderness and acceptance and love.

Derek hadn't known he was starving till he saw every­thing he wanted so clearly in Meredith.

"Oh, Derek," she whispered.

Metering his pace so she wouldn't run from him, Derek approached her. He slung the T-shirt onto his shoulder and, still holding her gaze, began unbuttoning her sweater.

With a gasp, Meredith looked down, away, everywhere but at him.

"Hey."

She swallowed and shook her head, quivering—from cold or nervousness?

"We ... we should turn out the light."

"It's not on." But the curtains were drawn wide, and de­spite the rain-dark weather and low purple clouds, there was enough gray light coming through the windows that Derek could see her clearly. A good thing, since he wanted to visually explore her whole body, inch by luscious inch.

He pushed the drenched sweater off her shoulders and inhaled sharply. Her breasts were beautiful, firm and heavy and so sexy his cock strained in his jeans.

Her bra was a white cotton bra, but her bra was wet, so it was transparent. Derek could see the outline of her rosy nipples showing through.

He was busy staring and trying to rein in his lust when Meredith jerked away, turning her back on him and hunching her shoulders.

Because he'd drowned his anger in drink, his damn re­flexes were slow, and Derek stood there a moment trying to decide what had happened. By the time he realized she was actually hiding from him, it was too late. Meredith reached behind her and flapped an impatient hand. "Give me the shirt."

There was a strange quiver to her tone, what sounded far too close to embarrassment to suit Derek.

Somehow, he'd find a way to make her understand her own appeal.

He handed her the tee and said, "Get rid of the bra, too." _Yeah, all of it. _He cleared his throat, but even to his inebriated ears, he still sounded far too turned on. "You're soaked down to your skin, Meredith , and I don't want you to catch cold."

And if she believed that, he'd sell her a bridge.

Meredith froze, clutching the T-shirt in her small fists. Then, with a contortionist's dexterity, she pulled it over her head without losing her fragile grip on the sweater. Beneath the cover of the tee she stripped out of her bra and finally removed the wet sweater—without showing Derek a single speck of additional flesh. She dropped the sweater and her bra over the arm of a bedside chair.

Derek quirked a brow, amused and also disgruntled that he hadn't gotten to see her. He felt drunker by the mo­ment. And hotter. "Now the skirt."

Meredith peeked at him over her shoulder, and he saw her cheeks were hot with color. But she had guts, his Meri.

She kicked off her shoes, then bent to pick them up and place them neatly by the door. With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she reached beneath the skirt and peeled out of her panty hose. She folded them and put them with the shoes.

Unknowingly, she provided Derek with a tantalizing strip show that nearly did him in. His testicles tightened, and his blood surged.

Derek locked his knees and said, "Go on."

Because he was so much taller, his T-shirt hung to mid-thigh on her, half covering the long loose skirt. She'd put it on over her wet clothes and now it was damp, too. It also moulded to her breasts, and the second Derek noticed that her nipples were pressed tightly against the cotton, he nearly lost it.

Meredith walked to the other side of his bed, where Derek couldn't see the bottom half of her, and reached back to slide down her zipper. She watched his face while he watched her body. Her movements thrust her breasts for­ward, made her nipples even more noticeable. He could al­most taste her in his mouth, feel the texture of her against his tongue.

In a growl, Derek asked, "Why are you hiding from me, Meredith ?" He had his suspicions, but he wanted to hear her say it to be sure.

She pursed her mouth and shimmied the skirt down her thighs. _Soft, silken, milky thighs. _Derek wanted to feel those thighs high on his shoulders, or better yet, against his jaw while he tasted her. . . .

"I'm ordinary, I am not beautiful."

His head jerked up, all thoughts of devouring her tem­porarily scattered. _"What the hell did you say?"_

Meredith frowned and dropped the skirt over the foot­board of the bed. Cheeks warm, her eyes soft, she faced him in nothing more than his white T-shirt and panties.

Her wet hair streamed over her shoulders, her feet pressed together, she said, "You're not blind, Derek. You've known me three years."

"Yeah, so?"

"So you know I'm ordinary."

Anger ripped through him. It wasn't at all like what he'd felt when confronting his mother and Addison and her parents. No, this was the real thing, singing through his veins, firing his blood.

Through a red haze, Derek surveyed Meredith , and all he could think about was getting his hands on her. All of her. "Who says?" he growled.

She tilted her head in confusion. "No one has to say. I have a mirror."

"And I have a hard-on."

She drew back, blinking rapidly. "You ... you're drunk."

"Yeah." He couldn't very well deny that when even now he kept swaying on his feet. "I'm also ready to com­bust with wanting to get inside you." There, let her deal with that honesty.

Her gaze skipped down his body to his lap, her fascina­tion almost tangible. Damn, but Derek _felt _it like a lick of fire.

Or just a lick.

"Not," he rasped, wanting to reassure her, "that I in­tend to do anything about it."

Meredith chewed her lips, still staring at his cock, which without his instruction flexed and strained against the rough denim of his jeans. She lifted dark eyes to his. "No?"

Through his teeth, Derek said, "You're an incredible woman, Meredith . Too damn good to be bedding down with me."

That caused her modesty to evaporate posthaste. "No!" She rounded the bed in a furious stomp that did interesting things to all her bouncing parts. With a short finger jab­bing at his chest, she shouted, "You're the finest man I know, Derek Shepherd!"

He caught and held her wrist, keeping her hand close so she couldn't prod a hole into him. "A man presently dis­owned by the only family who ever wanted to claim him."

Anger vibrated through her. Her hand opened on his chest, fisted in his sweatshirt. "Mary is being pigheaded. But don't worry, I'll see to her."

Now that thought was truly alarming. "You let me deal with Mary."

Her chin firmed. "I'll do what I think is right."

Derek scowled. "Meredith , it's not necessary for you to get involved. I have no doubt my mother will turn around soon enough. She might not really want me in the family—"

"She does!"

"—but she needs me there all the same."

Her frown almost matched his own. "What are you talking about?"

"In the last few years, there's been a shift of power in at least one aspect." Derek felt great satisfaction as he explained, "Not only have I been in charge of all the finances, making all the decisions without influence, but the employees at the clinic are loyal to me first, my mother second. And she knows it."

Looking much struck, Meredith murmured, "I hadn't really thought about it, but of course you're right. She's been de­ferring to you for so long ..." Meredith stared at him, deep in thought. "I know you're very respected. Mary brags about that all the time."

Derek didn't allow himself to believe that. Compliments from his mother were few and far between. Not that he gave a damn. Not anymore.

"The fact that Mary chose to add another chef into an already territorial mix of personnel will only alienate them more. If she doesn't quit pushing, she's going to end up with several key members of the staff walking out."

And then, Derek thought, she'd be beckoning him back. He knew how to deal with his grandmother, and he would.

"Oh dear," Meredith said, already jumping ahead mentally to all the complications, and likely more work such a sce­nario would bring her. As Mary's personal secretary, Meredith caught the brunt of his mother's temper and had to deal with the fallout whenever things didn't go her way. Meredith had fixed more messes than Derek ever would.

Derek watched Meredith 's smooth brow pucker, saw her purse her mouth in contemplation. Even with all her bravado, Meredith was no match for his hard-hearted ­mother. Thinking that, Derek touched her cheek. She was so damn soft. All over. And it made him nuts. "I don't need you to fight my battles, Meredith."

"Standing up for what's right is never a hardship."

He laughed. "God, how did I overlook you for so long?"

He had her full attention again with that comment. Her mouth twisted in bemusement, and as if speaking to a halfwit, she said again, "I'm ordinary."

"Oh no." Derek cupped her face. His thumbs rubbed along her jaw, under her chin. "You are anything but ordinary. With beautiful breasts and a killer ass and the sexiest bedroom eyes imaginable. I _did_ notice your eyes, Meredith . I used to wonder how you'd look while having sex."

A hot blush exploded over her face and upper chest. "You did not." She said that as a denial—with hopeful undertones.

Derek was more than happy to reassure her. "Yeah, I did. I still do."

She drew several deep breaths, almost gasping, then came against him hard, embracing him and squeezing him with all her might.

For a moment, Derek held himself rigid, shocked at the feel of her, how damn right it seemed. "Oh hell." Derek clutched at her, drawing her into him. Meredith smelled like a woman. She smelled _hot, _and his libido rocked into overdrive. He gave up and reached down to fill his hands with her backside.

Meredith squeaked and shot to her tiptoes in surprise, which only flattened her breasts against him, rubbed her belly against his crotch.

He groaned again, nearly gone, in a frenzy of lust he hadn't experienced in far too long. _With Meredith ._

It was a mind-boggling reality, drunk or no.

In so many ways, Meredith was taboo. She worked for his mother, sacrosanct in her position as personal secre­tary. She was a marrying kind of woman, not meant for one night or even one week of hot sex—no matter how in­credible he sensed it'd be. She was earthy and real and do­mestic and . . . honorable.

"Shit." Derek's head swam with disappointment even as his body battled with common sense.

"Derek?"

He released her to stumble to the bed, as hindered by blazing arousal as by too much drink. He dropped to the edge of the mattress and put his head in his hands, fighting with himself, struggling for control.

He couldn't use Meredith for sex, damn it. No matter that it felt more right with her than he'd felt in years, certainly since his engagement.

No matter that she appeared to want him, too. He'd be everything his mother had recently called him if he took advantage of sweet, innocent Meredith .

She sat beside him and touched his neck. Her fingers felt cool and feather light on his heated skin. "Are you okay?"

Derek knotted his hands in his hair, rebelling at what he knew he had to do.

"Shhh, it's all right," she crooned. "You've drunk too much."

Beneath the concealment of his hands, Derek's eyes nar­rowed in surprise. She should be slapping him, not petting him.

"I'll take care of you," Meredith promised, smoothing his hair with gentle hands. "Let's get this sweatshirt off you so you'll be more comfortable."

Derek dropped his hands and stared at her with red eyes and rioting emotions.

Her sweet smile touched him in places he hadn't known existed. "You'll feel better in the morning," she assured him, and to a man like Derek, a man who'd never been coddled, her tenderness meant more than the lust, knock­ing the breath right out of him.

With no signs of shyness now, Meredith came up on her knees and started to work on his sweatshirt. Entranced, Derek helped by raising his arms, but he couldn't stop him­self from looking at her adorable tights or the way her breasts swayed inside the tee.

It was as if everything about her suddenly appealed to him. Shirtless, he sprawled back on the bed at Meredith's in­sistent push. She stared at the snap on his jeans, and Derek wondered if she'd be brave enough to continue.

He'd about decided to spare her by removing his pants himself when she mustered up that iron resolve that had enabled her to deal with Mary for three long years and tended to snap and zipper with competent alacrity.

Derek lifted his hips to shove the jeans down, and Meredith , with only a brief awed glimpse at his lap in snug boxers, slipped off the bed to tug them away.

Voice quavering and breathless, she said, "There." Her lips were parted, her eyes glazed. "Isn't that more . .. com­fortable?"

Derek was so damn hard he could have been lethal. He was surprised his boxers didn't rip under the pressure. Comfortable? Hell no, he wasn't comfortable.

But he was comforted. By Meredith .

He watched her through a cloud of sensual pleasures— lust, and other emotions that were somehow more potent. "Yeah."

"Up you go." She turned down the spread for him and patted his pillow.

She was such a nurturing woman. So domestic. Those qualities held a lot of appeal for Derek, but he wondered if they were countered by more basic desires, those of raw sexual need. Would Meredith Grey be giving and nurturing in bed? Or would she be demanding, taking her pleasure?

While he scooted up in the bed, Derek growled, "No way in hell can I sleep, Meri."

"Why not?"

"You'll leave." It hurt to make that admission, but damn, he didn't want her to go. Derek figured in the morn­ing, when sobriety hit, he'd regret his actions. But for now, keeping Meredith close seemed more important than breath­ing.

She tilted her head, her expression again hopeful—and uncertain. "I'll stay if you want me to."

Just what he wanted to hear. Derek snagged her around the waist and tumbled her into the bed with him. "Yeah, stay. Right here next to me."

"Oh!"

He snuggled her up close to his body, despite her gasp and the way she went rigid. "Relax with me, Meredith ," he murmured, nuzzling her temple, kissing her hair. "Sleep with me."

He pulled her half onto his chest until her head nestled into his shoulder and her hand rested tense and uncertain on his abdomen. He could feel the wild rapping of her heart—or maybe it was his heart—and then he felt leth­argy drag at him.

He hadn't slept much since he'd discovered Addison with her lover. She'd ignored his advice to take a trip and in­stead had turned tearfully to her parents the very next day, spurring them into an indignant rage. His mother had gotten the news from them, rather than from Derek himself, which in part explained her fury.

Derek understood Addison's reasoning, putting all the blame on him, saving her own ass from as much grief as possible. But he was still nettled. He'd offered her an out, and instead she'd stabbed him in the back. He half won­dered if her lover had put her up to it.

And why.

Meredith's hand opened and smoothed over his skin, tan­gling in his chest hair, petting him with a kind of wondering curiosity. Making him burn. "I'll stay as long as you want me to, Derek."

Now that sounded good. As _long as he wanted. _Hell, maybe he could just keep her forever.

He pushed thoughts of Addison and her parents and his mother from his mind. He concentrated on Meredith's touch, on her understanding. And all too soon, he felt himself drifting into sleep.

At that last lucid moment, Derek could have sworn he felt Meredith's lips on his flesh, gentle, fleeting.

And then he passed out.

**---------**

**A/N Sorry, no sex... not yet... but soon...PROMISE!!!!**

**Derek was drunk, Meredith is inexperienced ( Okay, it's AU, remember). I don't want that their first time happened like that.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Here! Chapter 4.**

**the following day… **

The harsh pounding in Derek's head woke him. He opened his eyes, squinted in blinding pain, and saw nothing but blurry confusion. The room swam around him, his stomach pitched, and he went perfectly still, con­centrating on not being sick.

When the roiling of his stomach subsided to mere queasiness, he put his efforts to focusing. Something white was in his line of vision. Derek blinked twice until the fuzziness cleared and the object took form. Derek realized it was a bra.

He froze, staring in incomprehension.

His brain seemed a vast wasteland, and the more he tried to think, the more it pulsed. While Derek stared at that bra, trying to figure out what the hell it was doing in his bedroom, a warm body next to him stirred.

Alarm skittered through him, and he again froze. His heart punched into his throat, and slowly, so slowly it seemed to take forever, Derek turned his head.

He found himself staring at Meredith Grey.

Good God! She clung to him like a limpet, her smooth white arm over his chest, her small hand fisted, her fingers laced into his chest hair with a secure hold. Her head was practically in his armpit, her nose smooched up into his side, and he could have sworn he felt her warm breath on his left nipple.

A ripple of sizzling awareness rode though his muscles, starting at his toes and ending with a crescendo in his al­ready befuddled brain.

Damn, but Meredith was smiling even in her sleep. A small, sexy, inviting smile. What the hell was she dreaming about?

Her dark blond hair, trailed over her shoulder, and onto him. It teased the arm he had holding her securely, his abdomen. Derek choked.

_What had he done?_

Like a small, chubby cat, Meredith stirred again, stretching and making a sweet, feminine sound of awakening that caused all Derek's most sensitive body parts to clench in re­sponse.

It was at that moment that Derek realized her warm bare thigh was over his lap, rubbing against him.

He was stunned, breathless, appalled. He was rock hard and getting harder by the second.

Meredith blinked her sleepy eyes open and looked at him. For a long moment neither of them moved. Derek had al­ways thought her eyes incredible, but never more so than in that moment, when she looked so drowsy and sweet and . . . happy to see him.

Heat shimmered between them. As Derek stared at her, Meredith blushed a little, but she didn't look away. Even when his cock rose up and nudged her inner thigh, flexing against his will, she didn't move.

He knew he had to say something. "Hey."

Her lashes drifted down and she looked at his chest. Morning light blazed through the open drapes over the window, leaving long white sunbeams slanting across the bed, over their bodies.

Meredith turned her face, nuzzling him, and one selective beam caught the clean line of her jaw, her small nose, a long lock of hair. It glinted on her stubby lashes and in her green, mysterious eyes.

At that moment, Derek thought Meredith was about the prettiest thing he'd ever seen.

But what the hell was she doing in bed with him?

Shy and hesitant, her hand on his chest opened and she touched him, brushing her fingertips over his pecs, his collar­bone. Derek felt that gentle, innocent touch everywhere.

Meredith smiled up at him, a smile of awareness, of com­plete and utter awe. "You are so warm."

_An inferno. _Derek closed his eyes, hoping that by not seeing her, he could distance himself enough to figure out what to do.

Her fingertips drifted across his brow, riffled through his hair. "Are you all right, Derek? Do you feel sick? I don't know much about drinking, but I suppose you have a hangover."

He remembered guzzling one beer after another with Mark. Way too many beers. Hell, he hadn't gotten stinking drunk for ages. He hadn't expected anyone other than his brother to share in his drunken foolishness. But then Meredith had shown up with a sort of misplaced desire to protect him. . . .

Bits and pieces of the previous night pecked at Derek's brain. A groan broke loose, and he put one forearm over his eyes to shield himself from the light, the memories, and Meredith's astute gaze. Things he'd said to her, things he'd thought about, whirled inside him, making him sick with self-disgust.

He didn't like needing anyone. He _wouldn't _need any­one. But Meredith . . . last night he'd considered her a lifeline.

He almost hated himself.

"I'll make some coffee," she offered while keeping her voice low in deference to his hangover.

Derek dropped his arm to watch her scamper off the bed, then immediately snatch the sheet up and around her body.

Feeling contrary and mean, he said, "It's a little late for modesty, isn't it?"

Meredith blinked at him. It was an expression she often wore when unsure of what to do next. Derek had been the recipient of that look far too many times. Meredith could be busily at work, animated, and when he walked in, she'd freeze while keeping her green eyes on him warily. He knew Meredith didn't fear him. Hell, he doubted Meredith feared any­one.

_Had she been wanting him all that time, then?_

"I suppose you're right," she said at last, surprising Derek. And with a defiant tilt of her head, she flung the sheet back at him. Derek had only a moment to admire her curves in the clinging T-shirt and panties before she lost her nerve and turned, all but running from the room. The back view she provided was . . . interesting. Derek heard the hall bathroom door close.

"Shit, shit, shit." His stomach lurched again, and he forced himself to breathe, to lie still until the sickness passed.

Damn it, he'd been hoping she'd tell him he was all wrong, that her sleepover had been innocent. That maybe she'd gotten drunk, too, and they'd both passed out. But he knew Meredith didn't drink.

She also didn't sleep around.

The more he tried to think, the more his head throbbed. The last thing he could really remember was wanting Meredith . Fiercely.

Hell, he wanted her still.

Derek threw his legs over the side of the bed—and al­most lost his stomach as the bedroom spun around him. It took him a moment to recoup, and he staggered into his connecting bathroom, shucked off his shorts, grabbed his toothbrush and stepped into the shower. The first blast of cold water made his every ache intensify, and then gradu­ally go numb.

As the water warmed, his head began to clear. He stood there, stiffened arms braced against the shower wall while the water beat down on his neck and shoulders. It was sev­eral minutes before he felt human enough to brush his teeth and wash.

First he'd have to apologize to Meredith.

Then he'd just have to hope like hell she forgave him.

"Derek?"

Her voice came in through the open bathroom door. Ready to face the repercussions, Derek turned off the shower and stepped out, tossing his toothbrush into the sink. Meredith, agog and scandalized, whipped around so fast she half-spilled the hot coffee she'd brought as an offering.

"Hey." Still disgruntled with the situation, Derek dried off and wrapped the towel around his hips. "Don't faint on me, okay? I feel so lousy this morning, we'd both end up on the floor before I'd manage to pick you up."

Meredith knelt down to mop up the spilled coffee with a washcloth. Her back still to him, she squeaked, "'Kay."

Derek rubbed his bristly jaw, considering her. "I'm de­cent, Meri."

She peeked at him, then her eyes widened and slid over him so slowly, he felt devoured. She lingered on his ab­domen until he cleared his throat.

"Meredith ? The towel is secure, I promise."

She nodded and gave him a tentative smile. "I thought you could probably use this." She stood and held out the now half-empty mug of coffee.

Just by being herself, Meredith managed to take the awk­wardness out of the quintessential "morning after." Derek nodded and gratefully accepted the cup.

"Damn, that's good," he said after his first sip. About six more cups and he might even begin to feel human. It struck Derek that for the first time that he could remember, his apartment felt like home. Addison had picked it out for him, and a decorator had thrown furniture and stuff around. He spent as little time in the place as possible be­cause it had never really suited him.

But now, waking up with Meredith beside him, having her hand him coffee with a smile and hearing her chitchat. . . it all felt right. It felt like a home should feel, even with all his tension and uncertainty about the previous night's hap­penings.

He liked it, but he also _didn't _like it. "You can have the shower now if you want."

"Oh no!" Meredith pushed her hair behind her ears. "I couldn't."

Derek propped a shoulder on the bathroom wall and surveyed her as he downed more coffee. She had great legs, with beautiful thighs, cute small knees and tiny feet.

And now that he was sober, Derek could also see how her waist was small, her beasts and bottom were firms. He looked over all her body with sensual apprecia­tion.

Meri is sexy as hell. "You're here," Derek reasoned, pointing out the obvious. "You spent the night." _A night he couldn't remember, damn it. _"Under the circumstances, you can even use my tooth­brush if you want."

Her gaze darkened more and darted to the bathroom sink, where his wet toothbrush lay. "I, ah, I will go at home. "But thank you."

"Meredith , about last night..."

She tugged on the hem of his shirt, trying to bring it far­ther down her thighs and distracting him from what he wanted to say.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked when he didn't con­tinue. Her voice had gone all soft and sympathetic, putting Derek on edge.

It was bad enough that he'd slept with her, that he'd had all those luscious curves under him and couldn't remember a thing about it; the idea that he might have been a whiny ass, too, was intolerable.

Through his teeth, Derek said, "I'm fine."

"Good."

He needed to get back on track. By the second, Meredith became more appealing. He almost wished she wasn't such a sweetheart, in which case he'd already have her panties off her and apologizing would be the last thing on his mind.

Resigned, Derek gulped down the last of the coffee. "I wanted to apologize."

"No need." Her smile now was genuine. "I didn't mind. I even ..." She blushed. "Well, I enjoyed myself."

Derek could only stare. Meredith was a lady, always. Not a priss like Addison, but just as proper. Surely more moral. Yet she'd enjoyed herself?

He heard himself say, "Well, thank God for that."

"What?"

He shook his head and decided a few admissions were in order. "I was so damn drunk, I had no idea if I'd em­barrassed myself." Derek could just imagine how much more awkward this would be if he'd fallen asleep in the middle of things, leaving Meredith unsatisfied.

_But God, he wished he could recall her satisfaction._

Meredith frowned. "You don't ever have to be embarrassed with me. Besides, you were justified."

His head started pounding again. Derek set the mug aside and caught her shoulders. "I shouldn't have touched you, Meredith . Drunk or not, whether you liked it or not, that was out of line. You should slap my face, not make ex­cuses for me."

She appeared to be holding her breath and staring at his mouth.

"Meredith ?"

"You didn't," she gasped out, and her breasts heaved, drawing his attention.

"Didn't what?" Derek asked, even as his brain began an erotic fantasy with those bountiful breasts as the focal point.

"Didn't..." She gestured between their bodies. "... do what you're thinking."


	5. Chapter 5

**Here, the rules…**

Derek had meant to make amends, to promise Meredith it'd never happen again. He should have been relieved that things hadn't gone quite as far as he'd feared.

Instead, disappointment weighed him down.

"That's . . . good, then," he said. It was better this way, he knew that, but the feel of her under his hands, so smooth and warm, made him forget his resolve. She was close, and she stared up at him with blatant invitation— whether she realized it or not.

He wanted her now, more than ever.

"Derek," Meredith murmured in a hesitant whisper, "are you saying you didn't really want me?"

The question threw him. "I want you all right."

"You're not drunk this morning?"

"Dead sober." He'd _never _be drunk again.

"Then ..." She shifted, looked up at him. "Okay."

His knees almost gave out. Was Meredith trying to kill him? He tightened his hold on her upper arms and tugged her the smallest bit closer. "Okay? What the hell does _okay _mean?"

"Yesterday you were so drunk, I knew I couldn't take advantage of you."

"You couldn't..." She left him speechless.

"I especially wanted to touch you. Leaving you in your boxers wasn't easy. But I promise, I behaved."

_She _behaved? "Meredith , are you saying we really didn't do anything? As in _nothing? _As in not even kissing?"

"You don't remember?"

"Not much."

"Oh." That one word held a wealth of disappointment. "You, uh, well you did kiss me a couple of times. It was ... really nice."

The timid way she confessed that made Derek want to kiss her again. He _had _to kiss her. As he leaned down to­ward her, Meredith went on tiptoe to meet him halfway. He took her mouth without his usual care. But then, at the moment, he could barely think, much less summon up any finesse.

Meredith's lips parted at the first touch of his tongue and he sank deep, groaning and then feeling the responsive bite of her nails on his shoulders.

_Oh yeah. _He _loved _the bite of a woman's nails.

Her mouth was hot and sweet and his body tensed with razor-sharp hunger. "Meredith ..." He kissed her throat, Beneath her ear; he drew her skin against his teeth, marking her.

"You said you wanted me," Meredith admitted on a soft moan. She clung to him, her head tilted to give his mouth free access to her throat. "But I figured it was just the al­cohol talking. I didn't want you to do something you'd re­gret this morning."

Very slowly, awareness sank in. Though it was one of the hardest things he'd ever done, Derek forced his hands to open and he released her.

Christ, he hadn't touched Meredith last night in a drunken stupor, but he was about to lay down with her today, when he wouldn't even have the excuse of being drunk.

He turned away and rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sorry, Meredith ."

Silence.

Derek wanted to kick his own ass. He turned to face her and saw her ravaged expression. Her face had paled, and her arms were crossed defensively.

Her pain twisted in his heart. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt her. "Meri..."

"No, I understand." She took two hasty steps back— away from him. Her eyes glistened wetly but she didn't cry. She tried a small laugh that fell flat. "I don't know what I was thinking. Dumb."

Derek had been through the emotional wringer, and none of it had anything to do with his other or his cancelled wedding plans.

It all had to do with Meredith . He narrowed his eyes and firmed his jaw. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I'm twenty-five." She laughed again. "I should under­stand these things better."

He took a purposeful step forward, crowding her, stalk­ing her. Meredith was standing before him, her body soft and warm and timid, he felt every single rising surge of that primitive past. "These things?"

His tone brought out her wariness. "Drunken men, sex talk, the combination of the two. It doesn't mean any­thing." She shrugged and again retreated. "It's okay, Derek, really. If I'd been thinking, I'd have realized . . . well..." She glanced up at him, then away. "I'd have known you didn't want me."

There were a thousand and one reasons why he couldn't get involved sexually with Meredith Grey. None of them mattered in that moment. "You blind, Meri?"

"I... what?"

"You know what a boner looks like?"

Her face went comically blank, then she shook her head so hard her hair whipped over her shoulders. "Not ex­actly, no."

Derek damn near smiled. Honest, silly Meredith . She for­ever amused him at the most surprising times.

Derek dropped his arms to his sides and braced his feet apart. "If you're feeling adventurous, I can drop the towel and show you."

Her back straightened. Her gaze crept down his body with agonizing precision until she stared at the way his towel was now tented. "Oh."

"Meredith ?"

She reached out and flattened a hand on the wall for support. "I need to sit down for this."

"I want you, Meredith . Never doubt that."

With her eyes still south of his navel, she swallowed hard, licked her lips, nodded. "I already said okay."

"It'd help," Derek ground out, "if you'd demand an apology or something."

Meredith snorted. "I'm not stupid." She forced her chin up and met his gaze squarely. "Besides, I want you, too."

Drawn against his will, Derek moved to stand in front of her. She made him feel savage, but she also made him feel protective. "Everything is a mess right now, Meredith . No way can I get serious with another woman, no way do I even want to." Her big eyes were direct, unblinking. "All I want, all I really need, is sex."

"Okay."

Derek squeezed his eyes shut. "I wasn't finished."

"Sorry."

He looked at Meredith and saw heated anticipation in the way her eyes had darkened and dilated, in how her cheeks flushed. In how hard she breathed. Signs of arousal, and damn but he felt them, too. The woman could make him insane.

"Meredith , I'm not a refined man."

Her lips curled, her eyes got heavy. "You are the best of men."

"No, damn it!" Her faith humbled him, but he had to make her understand. "I'm not a refined man, not for the sex." His hands curled into fists; and he had to make her understand. "I like to work hard, play hard, and I like to fuck hard."

Her mouth slowly fell open.

"I can pull my punches in a lot of ways when it comes to dealing with others, to fitting in with my mother's world."

"It's _your _world, too," she insisted fiercely.

Derek wrapped one arm around her waist and covered her mouth with his free hand. "Quit trying to defend and protect me and just listen to what I'm saying."

Eyes rounded, Meredith curled her hands onto his shoul­ders for balance, but she nodded.

"You're right that what happened last night only hap­pened because I was drunk. No, damn it, don't start look­ing embarrassed again. If I hadn't wanted you all along, it wouldn't have happened. But I did, and then you showed up here and ... I was just drunk enough to stop thinking about what I shouldn't do and start thinking about what I'd like to do instead."

"Derek." Her lips moved against his hand, igniting him. "We both want the same thing."

He pressed his fingers more firmly against her mouth. "I want sex. Hot, wet, grinding sex. I want a woman who's willing to give me her body in any way I want it. But until I get everything else squared away, that's all I want. No com­mitments. And God only knows how long that'll take."

She gave an exuberant nod.

Derek dropped his forehead to hers. "Meredith , you don't know what you're offering."

She caught his wrist and gently freed her mouth. "I'm offering you anything you want. Anything."

An explosion of lust made him tremble. He felt on the verge of violence, his need was so strong. "So if I tell you to get naked, to sprawl on the bed, you'll do it?"

She blanched, but after a few seconds she said, "If you're sure that's what you want."

"And when I tell you to spread your thighs so I can kiss you?"

It took a moment before she understood, and then hot color flooded her cheeks. "You don't mean . .." Her voice was a croaking whisper.

"Yeah, I damn well do mean it. I want to kiss you every­where, Meredith , especially between your legs." Then, just to push her, he added, "I'll want you to kiss me everywhere, too."

"Oh."

_She sounded intrigued._

Derek gently shook her. "I told you I don't play nice with sex, Meredith !"

Her breath came in small pants as she purred, "We can play however you want."

Sweat broke out on his forehead, on his back. His mus­cles all rippled with tension.

Through his teeth, he growled, "I'm not going to be sat­isfied screwing in the dark, under the covers. I'm not going to be satisfied once a week, maybe not even once a day. When I take you ..." _What the hell was he saying? _"Meredith , I'll want to hear you yell and moan and see you squirm and feel you with my hands and my mouth and my tongue, all of you, inside and out. And then I want you to beg for more, until we're both too damned tired to move or even breathe. I want—"

She launched herself against him and kissed his chin, his neck, his chest. "Derek!"

He caught her up and headed for the bed, ready to self-combust. Meredith squirmed against him, touching him every­where, as fierce in her hunger as she'd been in his defence.

They fell across the bed together. Derek caught her mouth and plunged his tongue deep, tasting her, stealing her breath. His hand closed over her breast and they both froze, groans echoing between them.

"Meredith ," he rasped, feeling her taut, swollen nipple with his fingertips. Her back arched hard.

And the phone rang.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N : Thanks for the comments. I'm glad you guys liked this fic...**

_They fell across the bed together. Derek caught her __mouth and plunged his tongue deep, tasting her, stealing __her breath. His hand closed over her breast and they both froze, groans echoing between them._

_"Meredith ," he rasped, feeling her taut, swollen nipple __with his fingertips. Her back arched hard._

_And the phone rang._

--------------------------

He easily ignored it—until the answering machine picked up and his mother's strident voice sounded over the line. "Derek, you'd better be there. Something has happened to Meredith ."

_Something was _about _to happen to Meredith ._

Mary continued. "We argued yesterday—thanks to you—and now she's not here when she's supposed to be and no one can locate her. You know she's never late, and she absolutely never misses work without notice. I'd ap­preciate it if you'd give me a call. If she doesn't show up soon, I'm notifying the police." The line went dead and the machine began rewinding.

Meredith stiffened beneath him and Derek, feeling sluggish, levered himself up. "Meredith ?"

_"Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod! _What time is it?" She twisted beneath him, looked at the clock and fairly exploded off the bed. "I was supposed to attend a meeting over an hour ago!"

Derek watched her with narrowed eyes. "Forget the damn meeting."

"I can't!" She shoved her long hair off her face and frantically began gathering her clothes. "You heard what Mary said. She'll call the police."

"So?"

Meredith looked amazed that he didn't understand. "So I'd just die if I caused that kind of fuss!"

The tee was now twisted, Meredith's nipples were ripe and pointed and Derek needed to come, damn it. He needed that a lot.

Meredith stepped into her worn, wrinkled skirt. Appar­ently, despite their new agreement, she intended to leave. Right now.

Derek sighed. So much for her accommodating his sex­ual whims.

"I'm dying here."

"Oh Derek." She snatched up her bra and began strug­gling into it—once again beneath the T-shirt. She looked emotionally pained and deeply sincere. "I'm sorry. _Really." _She turned her back, whipped off the shirt and yanked on her sweater in record time. She sat on the side of the bed, but when Derek reached for her, she reached for the phone.

He propped himself on one elbow and took it out of her hand. "What are you doing, Meredith ?"

"My car broke down last night, remember?"

"Honey, if I don't clearly remember coercing you out of your clothes, you can be certain I don't remember squat about your car."

"Oh." She tucked in her chin. "Sorry. But my car died on me last night, which is why I arrived here soaking wet and why you coerced me out of my clothes."

He nodded slowly, his memory jogged. "Yeah, now I re­member telling you that."

Her brows rose high. "You're saying you made it up?"

"I'm saying I wanted you out of your clothes. Them being wet was a good enough excuse."

"Oh." Meredith looked bemused for a moment, then pleased. She leaned down and gave him a smacking kiss. "I'm going to love having sex with you."

He groaned, caught between tenderness, amusement and lust so hot he should have been breathing fire.

Meredith rose from the bed and again reached for the phone. "I have to call a cab."

"The hell you will." Seeing she wouldn't be swayed oth­erwise, Derek forced his tensed muscles to bend and sat up beside her. "I'll drive you."

"But..." She shook her head. "Derek, I'm going to your mother's."

"Yeah, I gathered as much." And from what he'd just heard, no way would he let her face Mary alone. His mother claimed they'd argued last night—thanks to him. No doubt Meredith had been busy defending him, and no doubt his hardheaded mother had taken excep­tion to her opinion.

"But Derek..."

"I'm taking you, damn it."

She stiffened. "Don't take that tone with me! I may have agreed to do whatever you say in the bedroom, but I never said you could boss me anywhere else."

Derek grinned as he pulled on his jeans. _She agreed to do __whatever he said in the bedroom. _Life suddenly looked pretty bright.

"My little sex slave," he teased, and watched her blush. "Hell, Mer, the bedroom is the only place I want to di­rect you, so we're in agreement."

She looked suspicious but finally nodded. "Okay, then."

"But," he added, not about to let her have the last word, "I am taking you to my mother's. And after­ward I'm bringing you back here, and we'll find out just how obedient you can be in bed."

Rather than put her off with his autocratic tone, Meredith nodded. Her eyes bright with anticipation, she said, "I promise I'll try my best."

Well, hell. She had the last word after all.

Derek was too busy trying to breathe to argue.

**so, ok, I must say : I LOVE THE TEASING... and I LOVE MERDER...**

**more soonish ! **


	7. Chapter 7

**…. Another update ! Yeah !**

Mary stepped around Addison, whose lashes were still damp from her most recent crying jag. Annoying, that. Mary never could tolerate all that whining and whimpering. Course, the girl had cause. Derek had crossed the line this time, dumping Addison so suddenly. Mary had to find a way to make him change his mind. It'd be best for everyone, but especially for Derek.

She had to fix things.

Funny, but whenever she'd said as much to Addison and her parents, Addison had only cried that much more. She knew as well as Mary did how unbending Derek could be once he'd made up his mind about something. His iron back­bone proved he was a Shepherd through and through.

She needed Meredith here to help her. Meredith not only kept her life organized, she was always a rock, and she had a calming effect that helped keep disasters at bay. If Meredith hadn't been out of town during the confrontation, Mary likely wouldn't have lost her temper and disowned Derek. Now she had to figure out how to get him back, get the wedding back on track and save face in the bargain.

Unfortunately, Meredith had gone missing after their heated discussion. For some reason, Meredith had taken grave offence at the supposed slights dealt to Mary's hardheaded son.

Marta and John, Addison's parents, sat in stony silence, waiting for Mary to come up with a solution to the prob­lem of the cancelled wedding. She loved them both and counted them as two of her closest friends, but they could be such _nitwits_ sometimes. What did they expect her to do? Ground Derek in his room?

To herself, Mary muttered, "Damn it, Meredith , where are you?"

John cleared his throat. "You're really worried about her?"

"Of course I'm worried. She's the most steadfast em­ployee I've ever had. If she's not here, it's because some­thing has happened to her." Mary had already decided a pretence of worry would buy her some time and give her an excuse to contact Derek again.

Marta, looking impatient, handed her quietly weeping daughter another tissue and turned to Mary. "You said the two of you argued. Perhaps she's still annoyed."

"She would have called and said so."

John raised his brows. "She tells you when she's an­noyed with you?"

If they only knew, Mary thought with a secret smile. Meredith always spoke her mind, especially when she felt righteous. Mary said only, "Yes, but always in the most diplomatic terms."

As if on cue, the library doors burst open and Meredith tumbled in looking like a ragged weed caught in the wind. "Mary! I'm so sorry I'm late."

Mary stared at Meredith , utterly speechless. Good God, had she spent the night in the gutter? Had she been at­tacked?

"Late," Mary finally said, giving her mind a chance to work, "is a few minutes. Meredith , you're several hours tardy."

"I know." Meredith shoved thick handfuls of tangled hair from her face. "And as I said, I'm sorry."

Mary looked her over. She was aware of John coming to his feet behind her, of Addison and Marta staring in mute shock. Her voice sharp with concern, Mary snapped, "What in the world has happened to you?"

"Happened to me?" Meredith blushed even as she repeated the question.

Mary approached her. A very real niggling of worry intruded. "Don't play dumb with me, young lady. It doesn't suit you at all. Just look at you. You're a wrinkled, dirty mess."

Meredith brushed at her sweater—which had two buttons in the wrong holes, leaving a peek of her cleavage—and straightened her sagging skirt. Her legs were bare, her shoes water-stained. "My car broke down last night. I got caught in the rain."

"All night?" Marta asked with real concern.

"No, actually ..." Meredith fidgeted. "No."

Mary scowled. "No actually no _what?"_

Addison stepped up behind Mary and placed a man­icured hand on her shoulder. "I think we should go, Mary. Maybe Meredith would like a little privacy with you to discuss her . . . dilemma."

Meredith looked at Addison overlong, then bobbed her head. "Is the meeting over, then?"

Mary tipped back on her old tired heels. She had never seen Meredith flustered, but right now, she was bright red and rattling nonsense. "Of course it's not over. We weren't even able to begin without you here."

"Oh?"

"We were going to discuss the business aspects of the wedding."

Meredith blinked. "What wedding?"

Mary tapped one foot. "Derek's."

"But... I understood that the ceremony has been cancelled."

Addison drew in a shuddering breath and Mary patted the hand still on her shoulder. "There are some things that have to be resolved, Meredith . But I have no idea where you have the legal files in my computer."

"Oh."

"Will you quit saying that!" Mary snapped.

"Meredith ?" John stepped forward. His handsome face was stiff with concern. "Are you all right?"

Mary realized they now surrounded her, and Meredith didn't like it. Her chin lifted and she crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm perfectly fine, thank you." She made to move around them. "I'll just open those files right now."

"No point," John said, watching her closely. "At least not until we know if the wedding is truly cancelled or not."

And then, from the doorway, a rough-edged voice in­truded. "The wedding is definitely off."

Everyone whirled to face Derek. Mary felt a mixture of supreme annoyance and grudging pride. Derek wouldn't hide from animosity. Derek didn't hide from anyone. After all, he was her son.

"What are you doing here?" Mary asked, even as Marta put a protective arm around her daughter.

In a flash, Meredith was at Derek's side. Or rather, she stood in front of him.

Mary's brows lifted. "Meredith ?"

"He brought me here. Remember, I said my car broke down?"

John looked between the two of them in confusion. "And you called _him _rather than taxi ?"

"Last night?" Marta clarified, and there was a load of speculation creeping into her tone.

Derek shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned into the door frame. He looked at Meredith, from all appearances as curious about her reply as the rest of them.

Meredith stiffened. "I went….. to see ….Derek … last night."

The silence in the room was so thick, Mary almost choked on it.

Meredith forged on. "My car broke down a few blocks from his place and ….. I … I got soaked getting there."

Addison held herself protectively and walked away to a window, staring out at the sunny afternoon sky. Mary noticed that Derek's gaze never wavered from Meredith ; he was oblivious to Addison and she was upset. Just as he appeared oblivious to her parents. All his attention, all his focus, was on Meredith .

It was almost. . . intimate… the intensity with which he watched her secretary.

"My God." Mary looked at them both, then nar­rowed her gaze on her son as everything became crystal clear. Mortification and outrage struck her hard. "This is too much, Derek! Far, far, far far too much."

Lazily, he looked away from Meredith to meet her insinua­tion. But before he could say anything, Meredith took an ag­gressive step forward "Don't accuse him of anything!"

There was nothing diplomatic in Meredith's tone this time. Aghast, Mary said, "You're denying you spent the night with him?"

Meredith pinched her lips together. Both Marta and John stiffened. Addison turned to face them, her eyes rounded.

"Look at you," Mary continued, determined to take charge of the awkward situation. "You haven't even brushed your hair. And your clothes look as if they spent the night on the floor."

Derek made a sound, but amazingly enough Meredith raised a hand to quiet him. He grinned—the rogue—and fell silent.

Through her teeth, Meredith said, "I did spend the night, yes."

Everyone spoke at once, John furious, Marta scandal­ized, Addison whining.

Mary shouted, "Enough." She glared her discontent at Derek, and in a quieter but no less furious tone, she said, "That's low even for you, Derek. Meredith is a nice young woman, too good for you to use that way."

Meredith sputtered, she was so furious. "Too good for him?" Somehow she managed to stand two inches taller and said in a low voice laced with significance, "I should be so lucky as to draw his notice."

Derek reached forward and tugged on a long lock of Meredith's hair. "You got my notice. Meri, and you know it."

Mary suffered a surge of protectiveness toward Meredith . How could her son toy with her that way? Meredith was in no way used to men and their flirting, and she surely wasn't used to a man like Derek. "Are you using her to punish me, Derek?" Was Derek capable of such a thing? Mary could never underesti­mate him. "Is that it?"

Meredith stiffened further. "Derek didn't use me."

"We're leaving," John announced, and Derek politely stepped out of his way. Marta clutched her daughter close and dragged her toward the door.

Meredith threw up her arms. "You've got it all wrong."

And as Addison and her parents continued to march out, she added loud enough to rattle the windows, "_I_ used _him!"_

Everyone froze, not even daring to breathe in the wake of that awful disclosure.

Then Derek choked, and to Mary's astute eyes, he looked near to laughing. She considered booting him, but he was such a hard young man, she'd probably break her ankle. Then she wasn't nearly as sturdy as she used to be.

"So," John demanded in austere tones, "this is the rea­son you broke off with my daughter? Because of a ... _fling_ with _Meredith ?"_

"Nope," Derek replied, calm to the point of indiffer­ence.

_"No." _Meredith agreed, horrified by such a conclusion.

"Then why, damn you?" John asked.

Derek briefly glanced at Addison, and with a twisted smile said to her father, "I have my reasons, and I'm sure Addison could explain them to you. But Meredith had nothing to do with them."

Marta, trembling in her anger, squeezed Addison closer. "I don't believe you. It's obvious to one and all what you've been doing. It's . . . disgusting."

Mary had to figure out what was going on before things got completely out of hand, She didn't want Meredith insulted but she had to admit it all looked very suspicious.

"You two wait here," she ordered Meredith and Derek. She approached John and Marta with no idea of what to say. Damn, she hated to be put into these kinds of predica­ments and Derek knew it. She avoided scandal and gossip by taking iron control of every situation.

Once they were well away from the library, John mut­tered in low, angry tones, "This is incredible, Mary."

Marta added, "He should be horse-whipped or castrated!!"

Mary considered that suggestion. "You know, Addison, it seems to me Derek's just sowing some last-minute wild oats."

Derek and Meredith. The idea of the two of them together was so ….. she was still a little shocked, and a lot disbe­lieving. There had to be another explanation. "I under­stand that's typical of young men."

"He's thirty-eight," Addison pointed out, and to Mary, Addison seemed far calmer than her parents.

"True. But…."

"Mary, please. No buts, he does exactly as he pleases. He cancels the wedding, he is immature. For being a brain surgeon, he is so brainless sometimes!" Marta said.

"I suppose," Marta reluctantly agreed. Deep down, Mary respected Derek, too. It was impossible to know him for long and not respect him, she thought. "I think you should fight for him, Addison."

John drew up short before the front door, the epitome of the insulted father. "My daughter does not have to fight for the likes of him. She has her choice of successful men."

_"The likes of him, _John ?" That was an insult Mary couldn't accept because it reflected badly on her. "Derek is of my own flesh and blood, John. And that's as good as it gets. Or are you trying to denigrate me now?"

John relented. "No, of course not, Mary. It's just that this is all very difficult. I don't like the idea of my little girl chasing any man."

"Addison needn't be blatant about it," Mary soothed, when what she really wanted to do was smack John. "Addison could perhaps flirt with a few other men. That might spark Derek's jealousy."

Marta and John started to object, and Addison cut them both off. "That's a wonderful idea, Mary. I'll give it a try." She hugged Mary tightly, absurdly pleased by the suggestion.

Heart in her throat, Mary returned Addison's embrace. As weak-willed as Addison might be, Mary adored her, and she badly wanted her for her daughter-in-law. Addison was sweet and kind and gentle, and she had an enormous heart. She also went out of her way to make her parents proud—unlike Derek, who seemed to take berserk delight in tweaking Mary's temper.

Together, they would give her incredible grand­children, and Derek's future would be set.

"All right, then. We still have a little time before the wedding. Not much, but maybe it will be enough. For now, we won't make any announcements."

John looked stiff enough to crack. "We can give it two weeks. But then guests will be arriving if we don't tell them the wedding is off."

"Two weeks," Addison repeated.

Mary watched from the doorway as they went out to John's very expensive car. Marta was already tying a scarf around her fair hair, while Addison sat in the backseat, her face lifted to the sun. Something didn't add up; there was more going on than the obvious.

Mary shook her head and turned away. She could hear Meredith and Derek talking. Now to face down them both.

Sometimes it was hell being the matriarch.

**Next update… coming soon !!!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Last update before the first mature, suss, hot update.**

Meredith propped her hands on her hips and said, "No." She wasn't about to relent on something so important, re­gardless of what Derek thought about it.

Derek had claimed he only wanted to "direct" her in the bedroom, but Meredith had her doubts about that, based on his autocratic behaviour so far.

"Meredith ..." Derek warned. His silky dark hair hung over his brow and his blue eyes glittered with menace.

"No what?" Mary asked as she reentered the room.

Meredith dismissed Derek's silent warning and rushed up to Mary, determined to make her understand. "No, I won't let him take the blame for this." Derek had accepted enough blame lately. No way would Meredith knowingly add to it. She sucked in a breath, braced herself, and blurted in all honesty, "Derek was drunk and I took shameful advan­tage of him."

Mary tripped to a halt in her sensible tan pumps. Her faded blue eyes were first disbelieving, then hot with in­credulity.

Derek laughed, raised his arms as if to say, "What can I do?" and dropped into a chair. He stretched out his long legs. He laced his fin­gers together over his abdomen and watched Meredith .

Meredith swallowed hard, as always affected just by the sight of him. She'd watched Derek dress that morning, had seen him in nothing more than a towel, felt his big, strong body pressing down on her.

She shivered with the memory. Derek was so gorgeous, so incredible. He was hairy, but not too much so. Muscled just right. Warm and hard and tall and strong . . .

She shook her head, determined to do what she knew to be right. She couldn't be distracted with thoughts of sex. "It's true, Derek, and you know it."

He shrugged. "It's true I was drunk."

"Mourning your hasty decision about Addison?" Mary quipped. Her tone was far from pleasant. In fact, Meredith would have categorized it as deliberately provoking.

Derek didn't seem to notice. "Celebrating, actually."

Mary drew back. For a brief moment she looked hurt. "Why, Derek?"

He met her level gaze. "Sorry, but I told you, that's pri­vate."

Mary took them both in with a glance. "If only you'd kept this unseemly little liaison private. You hide your reasons for publicly humiliating a family we've counted as close friends for too many years to count and flaunt an indiscretion."

"Unseemly?" Meredith sputtered.

Mary ignored her. "However, since you didn't keep it private, you've probably ruined any chance you had of reconciling with Addison. I hope you're ready to deal with the consequences."

Slowly and with a good dose of menace, Derek pushed to his feet. "I don't want to reconcile with Addison. And as to Meredith , I—"

Without conscious thought, Meredith took his hand. As they locked fingers, Meredith saw Mary take note of this gesture. "Derek did not use me," she said, struggling for a calm she didn't feel, "even though I was more than willing to be thoroughly used."

"Meredith Grey !"

Derek stared at the ceiling, but his shoulders trembled with silent laughter.

"It's true, Mary. _I_ went to his house. _I_ knew he was drunk, but still I stayed. And _I_ was the one who—"

Meredith's words were cut off by Derek's big hand. He pulled her back into his chest and with a hold on her hand and mouth, held her securely. He even rocked her a little.

She liked it. When she tipped her head back to see him, he winked.

To Mary, he explained, "Meredith is a little distraught at having missed the meeting. She takes her work very seri­ously."

"You don't have to tell me that," Mary replied sharply. Her gaze narrowed in challenge. "Then again, under the circumstances, it hardly matters, does it?"

Meredith stilled at those shrewd, cutting words. With her free hand, she reached up for Derek's thick wrist and gen­tly pried his fingers from her mouth. Tension had invaded him; she felt it and wondered that Mary didn't also. "What are you talking about, Mary?"

Mary sniffed and patted at her silver hair. "You've shown a distinct lack of morals, Meredith . The Montgomery are friends, very dear friends."

"I know that." Meredith's heart thumped and her stomach tightened.

"Of course you do. You've worked with them, through me, many times. We deal with them socially and through business on a regular basis. I'm sure you can see how awk­ward this would be for all of us." Mary turned away to stride to her desk. She didn't go to the chair but chose in­stead to perch on the edge, her ankles crossed and her head lifted in challenge. She was a tall woman, quite slen­der, and even at seventy, she had an imposing air.

Derek held Meredith a little tighter. She felt his frustration and his growing anger. "What would be awkward, Mary? Spell it out."

"Why, Meredith working for me." Mary straightened a paper, moved a pen. "She's involved herself in this sordid little contretemps, and unfortunately, there's no way to ex­tricate her now. It would be an insult to the Montgomery, and to Addison especially, to keep her on."

Meredith sank into Derek, grateful for his support since her legs had turned to rubber. "I'm fired?"

"Bullshit, Mary," Derek all but shouted over Meredith 's head. "You better rethink this."

"Watch your mouth, Derek! I won't tolerate that lan­guage in my house."

"I'm fired?" Meredith asked again. They both ignored her.

"And I won't tolerate you using Meredith against me."

"You're the one using her," Mary challenged, "to em­barrass Addison, and to hurt me."

"No one is using me." Again, she was ignored.

"She'll be better off taken out of the equation." Mary glanced at her nails. "Or are you going to tell me that you really care for her?"

Meredith bit her lip, then almost tripped when Derek took an angry step forward. Because she was in front of him, she had to move, too.

"You couldn't find a better secretary and assistant if you paid double Meredith's salary and you know it, Mary."

"I'll make do." She glanced up. "I'll have to, since I have no intention of further insulting your fiancée."

"Ex fiancée," Derek grounds out.

"I'm really fired?" Meredith couldn't quite grasp it. She'd never been fired in her life. Of course, she'd never had a man of Derek's appeal hugged around her either. Yet he was there, all but holding her up. Indignant on her behalf.

Mary gave Meredith a pitying look. "I'm afraid so, dear. I'll give you two weeks' pay, of course."

Well hell, Meredith thought.

Derek forcibly set Meredith aside and confronted his mother nose to nose. Mary was tall, but Derek towered over most men. He made his mother seem diminu­tive in comparison. She didn't back down. She glared up at him with the same blue eyes, only hers were faded with time.

"Fine." Derek's smile was not a nice thing. "You're on your own now, Mary."

Despite Mary's usual bravado, her face paled. "What does that mean?"

"It means I'm finished. I know you put on that little show of disowning me, but you haven't had your hand in the actual day-to-day work in years. I figured you'd be calling in no time, looking for a way to make me keep things running for you. Odds are, I'd have done it, too. But not now."

Mary scowled, and Meredith saw her eyes darken with a measure of guilt. Obviously, Derek knew how his mother's mind worked.

"You have no interest in the Clinic and the Foundation, is that what you're telling me?" Mary tried to brazen out the situa­tion, but Meredith saw the worry in her eyes, and it bothered her. She didn't want mother and son growing further apart.

Though Meredith knew it wasn't true, Derek said, "I have no interest in any of your business."

"They were _our _buisiness."

"Maybe—before you disowned me and fired Meredith . But I'm sure you remember how to keep it all running. The boards for all the charitable organizations will welcome you back, I'm sure. They barely accepted me as your rep­resentative anyway. And God knows you'll have no prob­lem finding an informed escort to take you to the political functions fast approaching."

Mary looked more furious by the moment. Furious— and panicked. Meredith wondered if Mary even realized how full her social calendar had become. She had a lot of obligations pending, and without Derek to assist her, she'd either have to start cancelling or be busy every night.

Derek turned and caught Meredith's hand. "Let's go."

Meredith was forced to skip along beside him or be dragged. She felt sick at heart, seeing the enmity grow be­tween them. She'd wanted to mend things, not make them worse.

Mary hadn't been on her own in too many years. She was older now, and despite her assurances, her age had caught up to her. Meredith kept track of every­thing for her, and handled all her day-to-day affairs. She knew that Mary often napped, that she had prescribed medications to take.

Meredith had an awful feeling Mary would be lost with­out the two of them, and a worse suspicion that she'd never admit it.

Until it was too late.

"Mary?" Meredith said over her shoulder, hoping against hope that Derek's mother would say something pro­found to stop it all.

"You need me," Mary insisted loudly with only a slight ache in her tone.

Derek just laughed and paused briefly to stab her with a look. "I got along without you for years, Mary, and that's when I was a boy. I'm a man now. Believe me, I know how to take care of myself."

"You'll miss the clinic and the foundation and the surgeries," she predicted.

Derek grinned without humor. "Not as much as it'll miss me." He jerked the front door open and pulled Meredith down the steps.

"Enough!" Meredith complained in the middle of the walk, tugging her hand free.

Derek turned to her, his frustration and impatience a palpable thing. _"What?"_

Meredith unnecessarily dusted herself off and peeked back to see Mary hovering in the doorway. "I'm not a sack of potatoes to be toted about, Derek Shepherd. For all you know, I might have wanted to stay."

"You're fired," Derek reminded her. "What would you stay for?" He had her there. When Meredith looked at Mary again, admitting defeat, the older woman shut the door with a snap. Meredith sighed.

"Let's go, Meredith ." Derek stood there with his hands on his hips, the sun behind him gilding his tall, solid form and making Meredith's heart beat double-time. "I can sure as hell think of better things to do today than hang around my mother's walkway."

Meredith shaded her eyes against the glaring afternoon light and wrinkled her nose. "Yeah? Like what?"

In an instant, the air changed, became more charged around her. Derek's blue eyes suddenly appeared hot rather than cool, intimate rather than annoyed. His gaze lingered on her mouth, her breasts, the tops of her thighs. "Like putting you into bed—after I strip you naked."

"Oh."

"The first time is going to be fast, Meredith ; I can't help that. But I'll make it up to you the second time. Or the third. I promise."

_Second or third?_

His jaw locked, his shoulders bunched. In a voice rough with need, Derek asked, "Are you going to keep to your agreement, Meredith ? Will you do everything I tell you to and give me everything I want?"

Meredith sucked in a deep breath of humid air. The previ­ous night's storm had left everything clean and fresh. New and ripe with promise.

The late spring sunshine suddenly felt sweltering hot, the sidewalk baking beneath her feet. She rushed forward and caught Derek's hand, and now it was she dragging him toward his car.

"Let's go, Derek," she said, in lieu of an answer. She didn't wait for him to open the door of the Land Rover, but in­stead quickly seated herself. "We've got better things to do," she agreed, "than hang around your mother's walkway."

And, Meredith thought as Derek climbed behind the wheel with a grin, if she was naked, Derek would be, too. Oh boy. He'd touch her, but she'd get to touch him back. And more.

Under the circumstances, it was easy to forget about the family strife, the loss of a job she loved, and the sight of Addison Montgomery with huge wounded eyes.

Meredith could only think of Derek and imagine what he might want from her, and how quickly she could give it to him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Warning : Update MATURE!!**

**Enjoy! I hope!**

**Part 1…**

Derek held on to Meredith's arm as they entered his apart­ment building. Maxwell smiled at the sight of them, but his smile faded when he realized Meredith still wore the same ruined clothes of the night before.

"Afternoon, Maxwell."

Maxwell nodded. "Mr. Shepherd." And then, with a bit of concern, "Ms. Grey?"

Meredith blushed hotly and growled some incoherent com­plaint to Derek. She'd wanted to stop at her place and change. When Derek had told her that he couldn't wait that long, she'd promised to just grab clothes to bring along. He'd nixed that idea, too.

He needed her beneath him in a bad way. Never in his life had he experienced such a driving urgency for a woman, and at the moment it felt like he'd explode if he didn't sink inside Meredith's soft, welcoming body.

"No visitors, Maxwell," Derek announced in passing, and Maxwell nodded

_"Derek." _Meredith sounded as though she was strangling. "Why don't you just paint a big red _A _on my forehead, for heaven's sake?"

He grinned. Meredith was more prickly than usual, and Derek hoped part of that mood was caused by sexual frus­tration. She wanted him, but he'd deliberately kept her from knowing what he'd ask of her. He'd hoped to heighten her anticipation, and help her forget some of her nervousness.

"Mer, you're the one who announced to all and sundry that you'd taken advantage of me. What difference does it make if Maxwell knows your intent?"

She mumbled again and punched the elevator button.

Making no attempt to hide his good humor, Derek asked, "What was that, Meredith ?"

The elevator doors slid open and he allowed Meredith to yank him inside. As the doors shut behind them, she glared, and her brown eyes smouldered. Indicating her clothes, she said, "I'd at least like to look presentable while ruining my reputation."

Her hair was incredible, and quickly becoming an object of sexual obsession. He could already imagine how it'd feel spread over his shoulders while she loomed above him, giving him her breasts to taste and tease. And then on his abdomen when he urged her soft mouth lower and lower . . .

His hands shook and he curled them into fists. "It's not too late to change your mind, Meredith ." Derek offered her the out even though it pained him to think of calling a halt now, when his body burned for her. He hadn't shaken with lust since he was sixteen, but now he trembled with the need to have Meredith .

Her annoyed frown changed to one of worry and her eyes darkened. "What are you talking about?"

"Your "reputation", honey." He continued to toy with that soft curl, wrapping it around his finger, rubbing it with his thumb. "You know, you can claim that little scene at my mother's was stress-related or something. Odds are, everyone will quickly forget about it, and Mary would probably even give you your job back." He shook his head. "Everyone is a little disbelieving that you want me anyway."

"You have that backward, Derek," she said gently, "but either way, no, I'm not changing my mind. And neither are you." She stepped up against him and went on tiptoe to kiss his chin.

Derek was so primed, he froze at the sensation of her mouth brushing his hot skin. "Meredith ..."

She caught his head in her hands and brought his mouth down to hers. Her kiss was tentative at first, tender, but they quickly became lost in heightened breathing and ur­gency. Meredith tasted so good and felt so right. Her small hot tongue licked against his, and Derek lost it.

He had Meredith off her feet, pinned between his body and the elevator wall in the next heartbeat. A ding signalled their arrival, and with an effort, Derek pulled back the tini­est bit. His mouth touching hers, his hand cupping her cheek, he whispered, "You're sure, Meredith ? And before you answer, think about it, because once we get into bed I'm not positive I'll be able to stop."

Her eyes were heavy, her lips parted. She offered no hes­itation. _"Yes."_

Derek let out a strangled breath. Thankfully, the hall was empty as he made record time rushing her to his apartment door and then inside. Late afternoon sunlight poured through the open balcony doors, making lamps unnecessary.

Derek caught her hand and said, "To the bedroom, Meredith"

He wanted to race her there, but he could feel her nervousness, so instead he spoke to her as they walked at a very discreet pace. "Do you want to know what I'm going to do to you, Meredith ?"

She peeked up at him, then away. A pulse throbbed wildly in her throat. "Yes."

Her voice was so low he barely heard her. He felt like smiling but didn't want her to misunderstand his happi­ness for amusement at her expense. They stopped next to the bed and Derek turned her to face him. "First I'm going to get you out of your clothes. All your clothes."

Her beautiful breasts rose and fell with deep breaths. "Are you sure you want to do that?" She fretted, looking toward the wide wall of windows where yet more sunlight flowed into the room and across the bed.

Very slowly, Derek tackled the tiny top button on her sweater. "Absolutely. You're a sexy woman, Meredith"

Derek opened the last button and pulled Meredith's sweater open. She turned her head away, but Derek caught her chin and lifted her face. "No, Meredith . Don't hide from me."

"I'm embarrassed."

"And here I thought you were excited." He eyed her breasts and murmured, "Your nipples are puckered."

Her shoulders slumped. "I am excited," she admitted in a tiny voice, "but it's not easy for me to stand here in front of you like this. At least last night you were drunk, and probably not seeing straight anyway."

"Meredith , look at me." She ducked her head even more until her long hair fell like a curtain, hiding her expression.

Gently, Derek lifted her hair over her shoulders. He loved her hair, but he didn't want anything to shield his view of her body. "This is the bedroom, Mer, and you agreed to follow my every instruction, remember?"

Her blush intensified. "I remember."

"Good. Then look at me and keep looking at me." Tentatively, her gaze locked on his, filling him with primal satisfaction. "That's right. I like your pretty eyes, Meredith . They turn me on."

Knowing she watched his every move, Derek reached behind her and unhooked her bra, then pulled it away.

As Derek examined her chest, weighing her in his palms, cud­dling her, his testicles tightened and his heart pounded. He had big hands. Her small, tight nipples were flushed a dark rose, and he rubbed his thumbs over her, making her quiver and gasp. He liked it that she watched him, that she saw the lust darkening his face.

Derek smiled. "Seeing you like this makes me nuts. Seeing you completely naked will be even better."

"Clothes hide a lot."

"Too much." It'd take time to reassure her, but already Derek felt on the verge of coming. He wanted to be as slow and easy as he could, but he wouldn't be able to wait much longer. "Hold on to my shoulders while I get your shoes off."

Derek crouched down, and Meredith obediently braced a hand against him as he removed her shoes, tossing them aside with her discarded sweater and bra. Before she had time to anticipate his next move, he trailed his fingertips beneath her long skirt, up her smooth, soft thighs, and hooked his fingers into her panties.

Meredith yelped.

Absurdly pleased with her, Derek said, "Relax, Meredith" And he tugged the panties all the way down. "Step out of them."

She did, and Derek stood again, hugging her close. Her breasts were perfect, further inciting his lust. Derek jerked off his shirt, wanting to feel her against his bare flesh. "Kiss me, Meredith"

She immediately stretched up and took his mouth. Derek clutched her ample backside, palpating and stroking and enjoying the feel of her naked flesh Beneath the fabric of her skirt. But only for a little while, then he needed more. He pulled his mouth away.

"I have to get this off you, Meredith . Right now." The zip­per caught, his impatience exploded, and Derek jerked hard, ruining her skirt.

"Derek!"

"I'm sorry, Meredith," he rasped, already lost. "I can't wait."

She paused, blinking nervously.

Praying she'd understand, that she was ready, he said, "I need you, Meredith ."

"Oh." She smiled. Her beautiful green eyes were soft, full of understanding, acceptance, love.

No. Derek shoved the skirt down, over her hips, but one look at Meredith's sweet belly, her soft thighs, the dark blond curls over her mound, and he was a goner.

"Ah, God, Meredith ..." He turned with her into the bed and sprawled out over her, pinning her with his weight. He took her mouth with voracious hunger and Meredith matched him, her hands now gripping his shoulders, her hips lifting into his.

Derek sucked at her tongue, gave her his own. He trailed wet, eating kisses over her throat, her shoulder, down to her breast until he felt a swollen, turgid nipple against his lips, and then he drew it deep, sucking hard.

Meredith nearly lurched off the bed with a whimper of sur­prise and delight. Derek held her still and feasted off her. He moved from one breast to the next, unable to get his fill, wanting more and more of her until her nipples were red and throbbing and Meredith writhed mindlessly beneath him.

The curve of her belly charmed him, and Derek had to kiss it, too. While he indulged in that, he wedged his hand between her thighs.

She was hot, nice and wet.

"Meredith, damn."

She stretched, tipping her head back, moaning. Derek slid his fingers over slick lips, opening her for his entry. Meredith was remarkably small and tight, even on his middle finger. He was barely inside her and her muscles were clamping down on him, squeezing him, and he just knew when he felt all that sensation on his cock, he'd die with the pleasure of it.

"Tell me how this feels," he muttered, and pressed deeper into her.

"Derek..."

He could smell her, her scent intensified by her excite­ment, and he reared back to look at her. The sight of his hand between her pale thighs, his fingers now shiny wet from her, was a great provocation. Derek bent and kissed her thigh. "How do you taste, Meredith ?"

She moaned again, her eyes squeezed shut, her thighs tensed.

Derek nuzzled closer while rhythmically fingering her, just barely in and out, bringing her closer and closer, get­ting her ready. Meredith's shyness was long gone and her thighs fell open, letting him see her, all of her. Her pink flesh glistened, and her small clitoris looked tempting and ripe.

Derek licked her.

"Oh.. my…god."

"Mmmmm." He stroked with his tongue, flicked ... sucked.

_"Derek." _Her hands settled in his hair, urging him on, holding him to her.

Derek pulled his finger out, pleased with her groaning protest, then forced a second finger into her. He knew she was a little uncomfortable with the snug fit, but he said only, "It'll make it easier for you, Meredith . You're so damn small."

"Yeah?," was her automatic, nearly incoherent wailing reply.

Derek raised his head and gave her a tender look. She was flushed, damp with perspiration, open and yielding and hot.

Sweet, amazing Meredith

He caught her ass with his free hand, lifting her a bit. "Yeah, here you're perfect breasts, Meri . And here. They fit perfectly in my hands or in my mouth… " He rubbed his cheek over her breasts, kissing each puck­ered nipple in turn. "But not here, babe." He worked his fingers into her, out, in deeper again. "Here you're small and tight and you feel so good, I can't wait anymore."

He raised himself up and quickly unfastened his slacks. With a small cry, Meredith jerked up next to him and began helping, pushing his slacks down, struggling with his shoes and socks.

Seeing her bottom, the full line of her back, only added to Derek's frenzy. When at last he was naked, she started to crawl on top of him. Her eyes were vague, smoky with need.

Derek held her back. "I need to get a glove, Meredith ."

Derek laid her on her back. Her hair spread out in a silky mass across his white sheets, her chest heaved. "Don't move, honey. I'll only be a second."

He yanked the nightstand drawer open and located a full box of condoms. He ripped one small silver packet open with his teeth and, with Meredith's fascinated observa­tion, he slid it over his straining erection. "Now."

"Yes, please." Meredith held her arms out to him, and that was enough. More than enough.

Even as he used his knee to spread her legs wide, Derek again wondered if this would be Meredith's first time. The idea seemed amazing; she was in her mid-twenties and she was so damm sexy.

Yet she didn't act experienced.

Normally that'd be enough to bring out his protective instincts, to help him conquer any lust so he could be gen­tle and patient.

This time it only fuelled his need. He felt like a cave­man, but he wanted to be Meredith's first. Just the idea of taking her virginity made him near to howling with pri­mal urges.

"Derek," she whispered, moving beneath him, squirm­ing to get closer, to pull his weight down onto her.

"Easy, babe." He opened her with his fingers so the head of his cock could wedge in. Her muscles flexed, her nails bit into his shoulders. "Look at me, Meredith"

Lips parted, face flushed, she stared up at him—and Derek thrust hard.

They both gasped, Derek with indescribable pleasure, Meredith with shock and discomfort. He caught her hips and kept her from retreating while he fought the urge to move, to pound into her. His whole body went taut at the moist, hot clasp of her body, slowly accepting him, easing around him.

Meredith panted, her eyes now squeezed shut. He heard her swallow, saw the strain on her face.

God, he felt like a total bastard, but pulling back was beyond him. He fought himself and managed to hold still with an effort. Sweat dampened his shoulders, his brow. Striving for gentleness in the middle of savage need, Derek lowered his head to kiss her open mouth, then the bridge of her small nose, her brow.

"It'll be all right, Meredith ," he promised. "Just try to relax."

She nodded, but it seemed she held her breath.

Derek kissed her again. Damn, how could he get hit by tenderness in a maelstrom of lust? The combination of the two was devastating to his senses, keeping him off bal­ance.

Everything about Meredith had him floundering. He was used to gauging himself, to thinking through his every action so there'd be no regrets later. But in fast order, he'd coerced Meredith out of her clothes and into his bed.

To buy himself some time to adjust, Derek teased her. "You're not very good at this obedience stuff, Meredith . You're so tense, I'm afraid you'll break."

"I'm... trying."

An emotion expanded in his chest, nearly smothering him; he kissed her again. "Then keep those gorgeous eyes open, baby. Okay?"

She nodded.

"Can you feel me, Meredith ?"

She groaned. "You're inside me. Of course I can feel you."

"Tell me," he urged. Maybe talking would help her to relax so that she could enjoy this. "What does it feel like?"

As Derek asked that, he kept himself rigidly still except to tease her ear, her temple, with light, barely there kisses.

"I feel... _full."_

"Yeah." That one word had the effect of a lick along his spine.

"You're a big man, Derek."

Not unusually, but she wouldn't know that and Derek wasn't up to explaining. He said only, "All over."

"I feel hot, too."

"You're the hottest woman I've ever met, Meredith Grey."

Her breath came a little faster. "It feels a little slick"

Now Derek was the one to squeeze his eyes shut. "Getting slicker by the second." Her virginal opening pulsed around him, milking him, pushing him.

Meredith squirmed, trying to adjust, and said, "Derek, kiss me again."

He complied, thrusting his tongue past her lips the way he wanted to thrust into her sex. He took her mouth roughly while making gentle sweeps of her breasts and hips with his hands. "Meredith ," he ground out, "I'm going to die if I don't move soon."

Her legs lifted around him, hugging him tight. "Then Derek, move."

With a raw sound of power, Derek tipped back his head and slid deep, pulled out, slid deeper. With each stroke, her body accepted more of him while she tensed and panted and finally, Derek couldn't take it anymore.

He considered himself a good lover, a patient and con­siderate lover. But with Meredith . . . she pushed his buttons and he had no control. Not now. Derek buried himself hard and deep and shuddered with an incredible, draining climax that seemed to go on and on.

Vaguely, he heard his own loud groans, the soft touch of Meredith's hands on his shoulders and chest, and the gentle kisses to his throat. When he collapsed against her, she wrapped herself around him and held on.

**TO BE CONTINUED…. SOONISH…**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks so much for the reviews ! I am glad you liked it ! **

**I started this fic a few weeks ago, that's why I updated so much in two days. ( But I never posted it) **

**I wanted to write something different….**

**And this idea occurred me… **

**I had promised "soonish"…. the, here is the update.. !**

**ENJOY !!!!! ****MATURE OF COURSE !!!!**

* * *

**Part 2.**

Long seconds ticked by before Derek's senses returned. He was aware of Meredith's heartbeat galloping against his chest, her breath static in his ear.

Sluggish and replete, Derek turned his head beside hers and kissed her shoulder. He liked the way she tasted, sort of warm and sweaty and womanly. He kissed her again, this time lingering, his mouth open and slow and thor­ough.

She looked at him, eyes heavy and dark with arousal. Her mouth quivered with unfulfilled lust, her whole body still warm with need.

Damn, she was something else. A woman through and through, smart and sweet and independent.

And a firecracker in bed.

Feeling like the luckiest man around, Derek smoothed a fingertip over the corner of her mouth. "I'm sorry."

She stared at his smile intently. "You don't look sorry. You look..."

His smile widened. "Satisfied?"

"I don't know." And then, with a hint of worry, "Are you?"

Derek laughed, content from the inside out. "Meredith , you were so damn good, you drove me over the edge."

"I did?"

He nodded. "That's why I came so quick. And I am sorry, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you."

"It's all right," she said, still all breathless.

"The hell it is." His grin lingered as he moved to her side and propped himself up on one elbow so he could gaze down the length of her bare body.

Meredith in his bed, still hot and flushed and _ready, _was a real treat. He'd be happy visually exploring her for an hour or so.

But Meredith needed more than that right now.

Holding her heavy gaze, Derek reached for her breast and carefully pinched one pink, distended nipple. She shuddered and he said low, "Shh. Lie still. I'll make you feel good, Meredith"

"What will you do?"

He met her worried eyes and taunted softly, "Whatever I want to. That was our deal, right?"

Though she nodded, she looked ready to swoon. It hadn't taken Derek long to realize that Meredith enjoyed giving in to his sexual demands. It turned her on—not that she seemed to understand that. Meredith's particular brand of inexperi­ence, curiosity, and sexual daring blew his mind.

Derek pushed his tired body up so that he was propped against the headboard, then removed the condom and dropped it into the wastebasket at the side of his bed. Meredith watched with fascination, giving special attention to his cock, which still glistened and was quickly becoming hard again. Amazing. So good. So…

"Come here, Meredith "

She gave him a questioning look even as she scooted up.

"Right here," he said, and patted his lower abdomen. "I want you to face away from me. That way I can play with you, with all I want."

She moved toward him, still her expression worried and hesitant. "I don't know how much more of this I can take, Derek."

That was pretty up-front for a virgin. "Trust me, Mer. You can take plenty." Derek reached for her. "And you will."

She whimpered in a mix of excitement and dread. But she didn't fight him when Derek arranged her to his satis­faction, her back to his chest, her legs draped wide over his muscular thighs, her hands at her sides, palms flat on the mattress. With his mouth touching the side of her throat, Derek said, "Now don't move, Meri"

She moaned in anticipation. Derek cupped both her breasts, pulling gently at her swollen, sensitive nipples. "Most women," he told her, speaking above her panting breasts, "can feel this even between their legs. Can you?"

She nodded shakily and whimpered again.

"Feel good?"

With a broken gasp, she murmured, "Too _good."_

"No such thing, sweetheart." Derek kissed her throat, determined to make her first experience memorable.

"Let's just spend some time doing this, okay? I love your breasts. They are perfect, so firms, so soft, so….."

Her back arched and he warned, "Be still now."

"I... I can't, Derek!"

"Yes you can." He opened his mouth on her shoulder, then closed his teeth down carefully on a muscle. He tugged at her nipples, tweaking, rolling.

Meredith griped the sheet with her hands. It was so good, so incredible. Soon, Meredith's fingers knotted in the sheet and her groan was deep and ragged. Derek took his time, teasing her and teas­ing himself until they were both breathing roughly. His erection nestled between Meredith's firm bottom cheeks, snug and warm. He wanted to enter her this way.

Hell, he wanted to enter her every way, in every position imaginable.

He heard her give a soft sob, shaking uncontrollably, and he smoothed his hands down her body to her belly. "Open your legs wider, Meredith"

She quickly obeyed.

"Mmmmm," Derek said, staring down the length of her sprawled body and touching her with just his fingertips. "Damn. You're really close, aren't you? Do you see how swollen your little clitoris is?"

She gasped as he thumbed her, her hips jerking hard.

"You keep moving, Meredith," he playfully chastised. "Hold still."

_"I can't."_

Derek pushed two fingers into her. He entered easily now because she was so wet, but still he felt her flinch. "You sore, baby?"

"No. Yes. A little." She strained against him. "You're big."

"Especially for this little virginal opening, huh?" He held his breath, waiting for her reply, his fingers buried deep inside her. She was stretched taut around him, clenching his fingers in quick spasms. Derek felt certain Meredith was a virgin, but he wanted to hear her admit it.

He wanted to know that she was his.

Her head pressed back into his shoulder and her but­tocks squirmed against his erection. "Yes."

Savage emotions surged inside him. He hooked his free arm under her breasts and hugged her tight. It took him a moment before he could speak, and then he whispered, "Do you want to come now, Meredith ?"

_"Please."_

He pulled his fingers from her body and, using both hands, tweaked her nipples again, leaving them damp and ultra sensitive.

"Bend your knees," he directed softly, "and spread your thighs as wide as you can."

She did, but Derek helped her, opening her legs more, moving her so that her feet were flat on the mattress at ei­ther side of his knees.

She was wide open, vulnerable, _and willing. _"Now try to hold real still, sweetheart," Derek murmured. "I know it won't be easy, but do as I tell you."

He opened her sex with one hand and with the other he began rhythmically petting her, using his fingertips to rasp up and over her clitoris, gently, purposely, again and again and again.

Every so often he dipped between her lips, gathering and spreading her moisture, altering his movements to keep her from coming too soon. He wanted the pleasure to build and build until Meredith totally lost it.

He wanted to know that he'd pushed her over the edge and given her a mind-blowing orgasm.

It didn't take him long.

Minutes later, Meredith was crying out, panting. She couldn't hold still and squirmed against him in blind carnality. Her head rolled on his shoulder, and Derek felt her soft, silky hair all over his chest. "You ready, Mer ?" he asked, knowing he was beyond ready himself. He kissed her temple.

Meredith answered with a rough moan.

"All right." Feeling like a world conqueror, Derek con­centrated his touch just right. Meredith's heart thundered, she stiffened, and then, with a harsh cry, she broke.

"That's it, Meredith," he encouraged, almost as wild as she. "Hell yes. You can move now, honey. Any way you want to."

She did, countering the stroke of his fingers, crying and shuddering and lifting her hips in frantic rhythm. Derek loved every second of it, her eagerness, her lack of inhibi­tion.

When her body finally went lax and boneless against his, Derek cupped his warm palm over her pussy, gently holding in the feelings for her.

Choking on unrecognizable emotions, he whispered, "Christ, you're beautiful, Meredith"

She turned her face so her cheek nuzzled his chest and mumbled an incoherent reply. Derek carefully turned her, then lowered her to her stomach beside him on the bed.

She was sweating, her hair were very dishevelled… Derek ran his hand in her hair, then along her back. Then, Derek placed small kisses, he started at her neck and down each vertebra until he reached the small of her back. His hands reached her small, firm, buttock.

Other than a deep sigh, she didn't move. She had closed her eyes.

He reached over her for another condom, rolled it on, then knelt be­hind her.

"I'm going to take you again, Meredith," he told her as he looked at her naked back. "God knows I shouldn't be hard again this soon, but you affect me."

The fingers of her left hand fluttered, as if giving permis­sion. If it hadn't been for that small movement, Derek might have thought she slept, she was so still.

He shook his head, delighted with her, then picked up a fat bed pillow, slid his forearm under her body to scoop up her hips and shoved the pillow beneath her until she was prac­tically on her knees.

Having her bottom in the air pulled Meredith from her lethargy very quick. Alarmed, Meredith looked back at him. "Derek, what..."

He held her still with a hand flattened on the small of her back. Seeing her so provocatively posed made Derek's muscles cramp. With a groan, he laid down over her and easily pushed into her body.

"Tell me if I hurt you, honey." Though Meredith was wet and tender, she was unused to physical excess, and Derek knew it was too soon to be taking her again; he just couldn't seem to moderate himself around her, not his thoughts, not his emotions, not his sexual need.

Still, she quickly got into his cadence and within ten strokes Derek was ready. He drove harder, faster, enjoying the slapping sound of his abdomen on her butt, the way her back arched and her hair flowed around her shoulders.

Just as he felt the churning pleasure start, Meredith tensed and she, too, came with a long, low, lazy, moan.

They collapsed together. The position was awkward, but neither of them was anxious to move. And that suited Derek just fine.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so sexually satisfied.

Amazing—and somehow special—that he'd found that satisfaction with Meredith.

* * *

**I hope that you love it!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hi ! **** thanks for your reviews... I love them..**

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"Are you hungry?" 

Meredith roused herself, trying to gather her numb wits. Little ripples of unbelievable pleasure continued to pulse through her body. Places she'd never before noticed, very private places, were tingling. Her heart felt heavy and full to bursting.

_Derek had made wild, passionate love to her. _Her mind could hardly grasp the fact of what had just happened, what she'd done—with Derek.

Oh God, she wanted to hug this moment to her and keep it forever.

She drew a deep breath and became more aware than ever that Derek was a warm, hard weight pressing onto her back. Because he hadn't withdrawn, he was still a part of her, still inside her body. They were connected, and for Meredith it was so much more than just physical. She loved him so much, it almost hurt.

His breath, more relaxed and even now, teased her ear, and his body hair tickled her prickling flesh. It was won­derful.

And then she realized something else.

Her big backside was propped up with a pillow!

She froze, picturing how she must look, and there was a moment of real worry, of acute embarrassment. But then she shook off the worry and mentally shrugged. Really, she should have at least blushed, but it had been too in­credible to regret in any way.

She could easily get used to this sex slave business.

"Meri ?" Derek leaned up and brushed her long hair to the side so he could kiss her nape. Goosebumps rose in the wake of his mouth.

She shivered in bliss. "Hmm?"

"You hungry?" He stroked his hand down her side to her waist, lingering, exploring.

His big hands ventured slowly towards her pussy. She liked to have his hands on her, on her skin. His hands kneaded her… She loved this feeling.. It was so wonderful, so incredible. That gave so much pleasure.

"Meredith?" He kissed her again, then again and again, lingering here and there, tasting her. Her toes curled as he licked a sensitive spot on her nape. Meredith sighed and squirmed against him. She giggled, she loved him so much.

It was the first time that he heard this gentle sound. But Derek found that beautiful. Derek loved her giggles. His heart almost melt. But they need food, right now.

"Oh no you don't," Derek scolded. "No more tempting me to unreasonable levels of lust. We need nourishment, woman." And to punctuate that, he gave her hip a swat. "What would you like to eat?"

Meredith was actually famished, but since she was tasted the sex with Derek, the food wasn't her first care, right now. She hungered for Derek. But she was too shy to say that to Derek. Then, she was the sex slave, she has to obey. She hasn't to want doing dirty things to Derek, not without his wish. She loved to be Derek's sex slave. "I'm fine."

His lips were still touching her skin and Meredith felt his grin. He must enjoy kissing her, she reasoned, since he did it so often.

She definitely enjoyed it.

"You're better than fine, baby." He put a tingling love bite on her shoulder. "Hot. Sexy as hell. You're a regular wild woman."

"Me?" _Now _Meredith blushed—more with pleasure than embarrassment. No one had ever accused her of being wild. As to that, no one had ever called her sexy either. "All I did was lay there."

"And moan and gasp . . . and come." Derek nibbled his way down her spine until he rested on her legs, pinning her in place with his chin touching her bottom. Then he added in a gruff voice, "I loved it."

Meredith smiled in contentment. "I loved it too. I had no idea sex could be so ..."

"Explosive?" He gently bit one buttock, then kissed the small sting.

"Yes." She wiggled again, getting more comfortable beneath him. Thoughts swirled through her mind, and she asked, "Derek?"

"Hmm?" He wedged a hand under her breast and held her while he continued to nibble on her behind.

Meredith had never in her life imagined any man kissing her there. It would take a little getting used to.

She cleared her throat. "Will I get a turn to touch you?"

Derek went still a moment. "Now that I've come twice, yeah. I think I can muster up the control for that." He bit her again, a soft love bite, then rolled to the side of her with a groan. "But first we have to go eat. I'm starving."

Without Derek covering her, Meredith felt more on display than ever. Suffering a distinct lack of coordination, she scrambled to get off the pillow, then sat up at the side of the bed and eyed her clothing. It was now well past wear­ing, in her opinion. The zipper on her skirt was ruined. Her sweater was baggy.

She heard the bed creak and turned to watch as Derek stood and paced naked to the closet. He pulled out a white oxford shirt and handed it to her.

Meredith eyed the proffered shirt. "Umm ..."

Grinning, Derek caught her hand and pulled her up­ward. Meredith could do little more than look him over. She was inexperienced, no denying that, but she knew Derek was a gorgeous man with a body that would excite any woman. There was no fat on him, just muscles over more muscles, sleek skin, long bones, and masculine angles.

While he stuffed her arms into the shirt, she looked at his wide shoulders, flexing with casual strength as he moved. He was a curly dark hair man, and crisp black hair covered his chest, his legs, his forearms. Meredith wanted to stroke him everywhere.

There was even a narrow, silky trail of sexy hair that an­gled down his body and bisected his abdomen. It swirled around his navel, then continued downward to his groin, where it grew thicker.

His penis was soft now, and Meredith stared, thrilled, en­raptured, curious. She wanted to touch him, but he'd al­ready finished buttoning up the shirt and turned away.

His backside was muscled and sexy, too, as were his long hard legs. Even his big feet were appealing to her.

Derek strode to the dresser and pulled out two pairs of boxers. He tossed one pair toward her and they hit Meredith in the chest.

By reflex, she caught them and then stared at the expen­sive, silver-and-black-striped silk underwear in confusion.

"Put them on, sweetheart. If you stay bare-assed there's no way in hell I'll be able to keep my hands off you."

Meredith looked up at Derek. The implied compliment was wonderful, but she had a bigger thought on her mind. "You wear silk underwear?"

Derek laughed. "Those were a gift."

"From who?" Mary surely didn't buy her son underwear.

Gently, Derek asked, "Do you really want to know?"

Oh. She shook her head even as she suffered a stab of jealousy. She couldn't imagine Addison being risque enough to purchase men's underwear, so it must have been one of the other women always vying for Derek's attention.

Women of all ages gravitated to him. The ladies who at­tended the same social functions were forever eyeing Derek with lewd intent, as were their secretaries and house­keepers. Even waitresses and clerks gave him double-takes and tried to catch his eye. He was handsome man, he was a brain surgeon, he came from a famous and fortunate family.

Meredith knew Derek well enough to realize he hadn't been swayed from his commitment to Addison. He was too honourable to cheat on a fiancée, but now . . . now he was a free man again.

He could have his pick of women.

Watching her, Derek said, "I prefer good old cotton." And he added with a teasing wink, "Like you."

Meredith's face flamed. She knew her underwear was utili­tarian to the point of being outright ugly, but since no one had ever seen it before she'd never cared.

She could only imagine what Derek's other lovers had worn. Addison, she knew, would own the finest, most delicate lingerie money could buy. And being that Addison was slen­der and taller, she would have looked stunning in it.

Meredith frowned in thought.

As if he'd read her mind, Derek said, "We should go shopping. I'd love to buy you some lingerie."

"Why? You said you only wanted sex," she reminded Derek. And, Meredith told herself, all she could realistically hope for was that Derek would want it with her for a while, before he decided to take advantage of his new­found freedom to seek out more attractive companion­ship.

Derek paused, then stepped into his snug cotton boxers. They hugged his hips and thighs and ... his sex. Meredith couldn't help staring. She wondered how it would feel to cup him through the cotton.

Derek stared at her with a closeness that bordered on scrutiny as he approached. "Let me help you get these on, Meri"

Meredith pulled back, clutching the silk boxers to her chest. "I can manage."

His blue eyes heated and his lush lashes lowered sugges­tively. "We're still in the bedroom, sweetheart."

Meredith , softening at the endearment, looked around. "So?"

"So in here what I say goes, remember? And I said I'm going to help you dress."

Meredith propped her hands on her hips. "I think you're using our agreement to unfair advantage, Derek."

He cupped the back of her neck, drawing her a tiny bit closer. "But," he said, his voice warm and rough, "if I told you to go down on your knees right now, you'd do it, wouldn't you, Meredith ?"

An image of her kneeling before him, her mouth even with his boxers, filled Meredith's mind. Her toes curled in de­licious expectation, and her stomach flip-flopped, leaving her breathless. She licked her lips and bobbed her head in ready agreement. "Yes."

"Good. That's what I thought." His rough-tipped fin­gers rubbed her nape, then he lowered his arm and held out his hand in undeniable demand. "Now give me the boxers."

Meredith held on to them. "Do you want me to, you know, go down on my knees?" _Please, please, please._

He flicked the end of her nose and treated her to a half-smile of blatant satisfaction. "Not just yet."

"But..."

Derek wrestled the boxers from her, bent to hold them, and said, "Step in, Meredith"

And like an obedient little sex slave, she did.

Derek pulled up the boxers while grazing her skin with his fingers. Then he gave her a slight slap on her butt. Meredith chewed her lower lips, very pleased with his touch.

"Now, we're going to eat !

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	12. Chapter 12

They had prepared their meal in silence, and now, they had ate in silence.

Meredith merely nibbled on her cheese sandwich and corn chips, even though they were delicious and she felt raven­ous. Having sex had really worked up her appetite.

Of course, since she was sitting on Derek's lap— as he'd insisted —hunger was her _second _most prominent urge.

The dual assault of embarrassment and wantonness was new to her. She was embarrassed because, really, she didn't use to sit on somebody's lap. Plus, she felt his cock began to stir under her. Not that she was complaining. Not that Derek was com­plaining. No, he just kept touching her and kissing her, and that was what accounted for her wantonness.

She'd led a sexually repressed life, but now all those feelings, so long buried, were bursting free. Her previous state of virginity hadn't been so much by deliberate choice but because no man who'd appealed to her had ever shown an interest. But she didn't do either much effort to attract men.

"Open up." Derek enticed her mouth with a pickle chip and Meredith obligingly accepted it. Pickles had never tasted so good.

"I should have taken you out someplace nice to eat," Derek grumbled. He reached for a frosty can of cola and took a healthy drink, then offered it to Meredith

"This is nice." Better than nice. They were in Derek's living room, cuddled together in a large cushioned chair. Music played from the stereo. The sun wasn't quite as bright through the patio doors now, but a nice breeze wafted in, bringing with it the scents of spring.

Meredith could feel the hard strength of Derek's muscled thighs beneath her, the heat of his solid chest behind her. And he was being so affectionate.

"Besides, I don't have anything here to wear. Somebody," she said, eyeing him so he wouldn't misunder­stand, "was too unreasonable to let me stop and pick up a change of clothes."

Derek cupped her breast through the white shirt. "Not unreasonable, Meredith . Too horny."

Meredith laughed. She couldn't remember ever having so much fun. She even liked it that Derek drank straight from a can, just as she did when no one was around to see her. Though she'd never have admitted it to anyone, she liked the metallic taste and hated the way ice watered down the pop.

She also liked sharing the can with Derek, drinking where he drank.

Derek was different from most men of his station. He had money now, and he'd learned how to spend it, but it never seemed that important to him. His life wasn't about money or celebrity. He was . . . more real than that. He cared about others, and it showed.

Derek teased her throat with a knuckle. "Want me to send someone over to your place to pick up some of your stuff?"

"No!" Meredith patted her mouth with a paper napkin and relaxed against his shoulder. "I don't want anyone rum­maging through my things, Derek."

Derek stared at her, then nodded. "All right."

As Meredith watched, his bright blue eyes heated. He looked at her mouth. "Did you want the rest of your sand­wich?"

Sensing the change in his mood, Meredith shook her head. "No." At the moment, food was the last thing on her mind. She felt a solid ridge suddenly pressing up against her bottom, and the knowledge that Derek was again aroused had a similar effect on her. Her breath caught and her nipples puckered. "But I would like the rest of you."

His gaze shot to hers, and a slow smile spread over his handsome face. "You want your turn to tease. Meri?"

Meredith fought her blush and nodded. "Yes."

"What will you do?" he asked low, and shifted to bring her closer, turning her so that she was more or less cradled in his arms. He touched his nose to hers. "Tell me."

Heart fluttering, muscles going liquid, Meredith whispered, "I was thinking—"

A knock at the front door made them both twist around. Derek frowned, then looked back at Meredith . "I'm waiting."

"Um ..." She eyed the door. "Aren't you going to an­swer that?"

"Hell no." He playfully kissed her throat. "I've got a sexy broad on my lap and she's about to tell me all the wicked acts she wants to inflict on my poor body. All things considered, I don't give a damn who's at the door."

"But. . ."

Derek cupped her head and tipped it up, then kissed her hungrily. Against her lips, he said, "Hey, I'm on pins and needles here, Meredith ."

The knock came again, this time more impatient.

"Uh ..."

"Ignore it. Or better yet, let's go back in the bedroom where I'm in charge and I'll make you forget all about the damn door."

Derek made to stand with Meredith held in his arms, and she squealed, pushing him back in the seat and laughing out loud. "Okay, okay! I'll tell all."

Suddenly the lock on the door clicked, and a second later, the door swung open.

Their laughter died a startling death. Derek and Meredith both stared.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hello! Sorry, this chapter took so long **

**So, here a new update...**

* * *

_Suddenly the lock on the door clicked, and a second later, the door swung open._

_Their laughter died a startling death. Derek and Meredith both stared_

Addison, impeccably dressed, her hair neatly styled, stepped in. She dropped her key in her purse, closed the door, and turned. The second she saw Derek and Meredith her mouth fell open. "Oh dear."

Derek plopped back in his seat with a furious scowl. "What the hell are you doing here, Addison?"

Face hot with embarrassment, Meredith started to scram­ble off Derek's lap. But as if he'd anticipated her move, he laced his arms around her middle and held her tight. Unless she wanted to indulge in a scuffle—which she'd ob­viously lose—there was no way for her to remove herself.

That being the case, Meredith was forced to improvise.

It was awkward, but she pinned on a bright smile and greeted their unexpected guest. "Hello, Addison."

"I knocked." Addison looked at Derek, then Meredith, and back again. One brow arched high. "Twice."

"We ignored it," Derek rudely told her. And with a sar­castic smile "Twice."

"I assumed you weren't home." Addison frowned and folded her arms. "I was going to wait for you."

Both Derek and Addison sounded hostile, and Meredith couldn't bear it. There'd been enough hurt already.

"We were just . . . having brunch. Would you like a cheese sandwich?"

Derek choked on a laugh and squeezed Meredith in a warm hug. "She didn't come here to eat, Meredith."

Addison stared at Meredith. Her attention went from their mostly naked appearances to the way Derek held Meredith on his lap, pressed close to his chest. Amazingly, Addison looked more confused than angry or hurt by their intimate em­brace.

"No," Addison agreed, "no, I didn't come to eat." She cleared her throat and gave Meredith a pointed look. "Derek, could I speak to you, please?"

Meredith again tried to leave Derek's lap, and Derek again restrained her. "It's a bad time, Addison."

"Derek," Meredith hissed through her teeth. And then, in a whisper, _"Let go."_

Without her discretion, Derek said, "I don't want to let go, Meredith . We have unfinished business."

Meredith smiled at Addison, then reached behind herself and gave a small, vicious tug to his chest hair. He yelped, re­leased her to rub at the sting, and she all but sprung off his lap.

Trying to brazen it out and act as if she hadn't just as­saulted his body, Meredith said, "I'll just go get dressed and—"

Derek caught her hand, bringing her to a halt before she could take a single step away. He looked . . . displeased. "You don't have anything to change into, remember? Your skirt is ruined."

Meredith pondered how successful she might be at stran­gling him. Probably not very, considering how thick his neck was.

Addison rubbed her forehead. "This is ridiculous, Derek. I only need a moment."

He stood next to Meredith . "I'll give you a call tomorrow."

"It's important."

"Yeah? So is this."

Face red with growing annoyance, Addison said, "I need to speak with you _now."_

Derek started to reply as heatedly and Meredith , feeling like an interloper, squeezed his hand. "Derek, be reasonable."

He turned his dark frown down to Meredith. She should have been intimidated by that ferocious expression, Meredith thought, but instead she smiled and nodded encourage­ment. Amazingly, Derek softened. He sighed and shook his head at Meredith. "Fine, what­ever. You want to talk, we'll talk." And then, firmly "But Meredith stays."

Like a ton of bricks landing on her head, Meredith sud­denly understood that Derek needed her at his side. He wasn't just twitting Addison, trying to be mean-spirited be­cause of whatever had transpired between them. He'd been through hell the last few days, facing down more than one accuser. Regardless of how he tried to pretend it didn't matter, she knew that he had to hurt.

And now he wanted Meredith's support. Meredith was more than glad to give it.

She pulled her hand free but didn't move away from his side. "Addison, why don't you sit down? Can I get you some­thing to drink?"

Addison strode to the sofa and perched on the edge of the seat. Her smile was chagrined when she said, "You're turning into quite the little hostess, Meredith."

Unsure if Addison was mocking or sincere, Meredith smiled. "Thanks."

Meredith started to sit in another chair, but Derek caught her by surprise and hauled her back into his lap. "Let's get this over with, Addison."

Meredith wanted to box his ears, but more than that she needed to reassure Addison. It was obvious she was on edge, her hands shaking, her eyes clouded with worry. "I won't repeat a word, I promise."

"And I trust _her," _Derek added, making a direct jibe at Addison.

Facing defeat, Addison sighed. "All right." She clasped her hands together on her knees, not happy with the situation but understanding that she had little choice. "Your mother suggested that you're flirting with Meredith just to get my attention. To maybe make me jealous."

Derek snorted.

Meredith's reaction was a bit more volatile. She nearly swallowed her tongue. "But. . . that's absurd! I'm not the type of woman who'd make anyone jealous."

For some reason, that made Derek snort again, and the squeeze he gave her forced the breath right out of her. He was back to looking annoyed again.

Addison nodded. "I realize that it's not true, of course." And then hesitantly, "Is it?"

To Meredith's relief, Derek dropped the antagonism. "Addison, I wish you well, I really do. But beyond friendship, my in­terest in you is over. I'm not even sure it was there in the first place, at least not the way everyone assumed."

Addison stared down at her hands, but she didn't deny that.

"Is that all you wanted?"

"No, of course not." Addison looked between the two of them. "Mary wants me to flirt with a few other men, flirt with them perhaps even at the Foundation to try to regain your attention. I agreed just to appease her and my parents. But I didn't want you to think I was . . . chasing you."

She flicked a glance at Meredith and licked her lips in a show of nervousness. "You've been very kind about all this, Derek, and I didn't want to cause you any more . . . discomfort. But the idea . . . well, it seemed like it could benefit us both."

Derek raised a brow. "You think?"

Addison's obvious nervousness grew. "I'd like to be there, you know that."

At first, Meredith didn't understand that cryptic comment, but Derek seemed to. He said, "Yeah, the Foundation is your favourite hang out, isn't it? I wish I'd figured out why a little sooner and saved us both some time. But hey, I never claimed to be real swift."

Suspicion dawned, but Meredith had a hard time reconcil­ing it to what she knew. Could there be another man in­volved? Could any woman look at another man when she had Derek?

It was hard to believe, and Meredith decided to give it more thought. But first she frowned at Derek. "Of course you're swift. You're a brilliant brain surgeon and a very good business man." And to help Addison along, she added, "Everyone likes hang out at The Foundation, especially since you added the live entertainment. This show is very good and people wants to watch it. They pay and that brings back many funds and you help more people. Thanks to you, The Foundation collects many funds and you help a lot of people."

Derek looked at Meredith and chuckled. "Yeah, there is that."

Addison flushed with guilt, then forged on despite her dis­comfort. "It would appear to my parents as if we're trying to work things out. Then, after a while, they'd think we'd both tried but we just couldn't resolve our differences. We'd both win."

"That'd just drag out the inevitable, Addison, and you know it. You have to tell them the truth sooner or later."

Addison closed her eyes. "I'm not ready yet."

Derek shook his head in disgust. "Fine, whatever. You can hang out at the Foundation all you want. It's no skin off my nose."

"Oh, Derek, thank you!" Her whole face brightened. "I was hoping you'd take that attitude."

"Doesn't matter to me," Derek continued with a shrug, "because I won't be at the Foundation."

"What! Why not?" Addison appeared momentarily pan­icked. "Please don't tell me you're taking a leave of ab­sence right now. It's the worse timing imaginable ..."

"Mary disowned me, Addison. You were there."

"Oh, that." Addison waved her hand in dismissal. "You know she didn't mean it. She was just disappointed that we wouldn't marry and was lashing out. It didn't mean anything. Surely you know that."

Idly, as if he wasn't even aware of it, Derek stroked Meredith's arm. Meredith felt his hurt. The idea that his ­mother could treat him so callously and yet have it mean nothing was a painful fact to accept. She patted his hand on her arm, hoping to offer him a measure of comfort.

"Lashing out at me was fine, Addison. But she also fired Meredith."

"But... why?"

"She's afraid you'll be offended by Meredith's presence."

Meredith added, "She thinks I'm the _other woman." _Secretly, Meredith was titillated by that awesome assumption, not that she'd admit it to anyone.

Addison groaned. "But that's absurd!"

Meredith started to nod in total agreement, and Derek went tense. His hold on Meredith tightened once again. "What the hell is so absurd about it?"

Sensing that she'd angered him, Addison went blank and then started talking rapidly. "Um . . . maybe I could talk to Mary ..."

"Won't do any good," Derek said. "Mary has her own reasons for doing things, and no one is going to change her mind."

Addison acknowledged that with a nod. "Meredith, I'm sorry."

Meredith shrugged. "I'll find another job. It's okay."

"No, it is not okay," Derek insisted. "I'm done."

Addison deflated with uncharacteristic drama. "But Derek, if you're not there, I won't have any reason to be there."

"No reason except the truth."

Meredith watched as Addison colored. So, it was someone at the Foundation? That would explain why Addison wanted to be there.

Meredith thought of all the men who worked the different shifts, but none of them measured up to Derek. Andrew, the accountant, was a handsome, stately man, but he was gentle and courteous. He wasn't the type to make a young woman's heart flutter. Besides, he was married.

There was Enrico Del Torro, "the bull" a forty-year-old Latin American musician Derek had hired to play music dur­ing the show. But he was an outrageous flirt, flamboyant, with an earring and chains. And he was with a different woman every night. Even if the age and appear­ance didn't matter, Meredith couldn't imagine Addison putting up with the variety of women.

And the managers—well, they were as edu­cated, as sophisticated as Addison, but again, Meredith couldn't quite picture them appealing to a young, attractive woman. They ranged from short and portly to tall and razor thin.

And the others employees ( odd-job men; voluntary workers…) were they Addison's type? And what was Addison's type? What man could possibly have lured her away from Derek?

Addison spoke again, drawing Meredith from her ruminations. "Derek," she said in a plea, "my parents barely accepted you, and Mary is your mother. I don't dare try to push them any farther."

Derek smirked. "I'm the lesser of two evils, is that what you're saying?"

Addison's eyes were big and sad. "I'm sorry, but yes, you know you are."

In an instant, Meredith lost her temper. Every ounce of pity she'd felt for Addison went out the patio doors. "That is the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard."

She sat stiffly on Derek's lap, all but huffing, her hands curled into fists. "Derek is a wonderful catch and your parents should have been thrilled to have him. In fact, I'm sure they _were _thrilled."

Derek didn't try very hard to hide his grin. "It's all right, Meredith," he soothed. "I've always been well aware of what Marta and John thought of me."

Meredith whirled on him. "It is not all right. It's outra­geous." She pointed a stiff finger at Addison. "She was darn lucky to have you!"

Addison gulped.

Belatedly, Meredith realized the insult she'd dealt and turned to Addison with a frown. "I didn't exactly mean ..."

"I know what you meant, Meredith. And I agree. Derek is a wonderful person. The very best, in fact." Addison looked at Derek and found her first smile since her infelicitous ar­rival. "She's very defensive of you."

"Yeah."

"Well, you appear to enjoy it. I'm surprised."

Derek shrugged, nearly toppling Meredith from his lap. She didn't appreciate them speaking about her as if she'd left the room.

Just to make sure Derek was aware of her feelings, she deliberately elbowed him as she stood. "I've contributed more than enough to this conversation." An escape seemed her best bet, before she humiliated herself further. "I think I'll call to get my car towed."

Derek stood, too. "What's your hurry?"

The man could be so obtuse. Did he think she enjoyed being in the middle of a conversation between him and the woman he'd been engaged to for so long? She didn't say any of that, and replied instead, "I need to get home so I can shower and change."

"You can shower here."

"Derek!" Red to the roots of her tangled hair, Meredith stomped back up to him and grumbled under her breath, "You have a lot to learn about discretion."

He rolled his eyes. "You're the one who just told me how swift I am."

Meredith supposed it was hard to be taken seriously when she wore one of his enormous shirts and a pair of striped silk boxers.

Thank God Addison hadn't commented on the clothing, though she'd certainly made note of it.

Addison also stood, and though she still appeared worried, she grinned. "I think Derek has been very discreet. And Derek, I really do appreciate it." Then, to Meredith, "Please, don't rush off. I'm leaving now anyway. I have a few things to figure out."

Derek put his fists on his hips and regarded Addison. "You should give your folks a chance. They might be more un­derstanding than you think."

"The same way Mary understood you?"

"That's different."

"I don't see how. They all had the same expectations."

"That we'd marry and live happily ever after?" He made a rude sound. "I'm beginning to think they wanted the marriage more than you or I ever did."

Meredith stared at Derek, wondering what he was thinking. He wore his most enigmatic expression, so she couldn't re­ally tell.

Addison hooked her purse over her arm and smoothed her sleek, short brown hair. "Be happy, Derek."

He slung an arm around Meredith 's waist, hauling her close. "Yeah, you, too."

"At the moment," Addison whispered, "that seems pretty impossible."

She turned away and Derek said, "Addison?"

"Yes?"

"My key?"

With a rueful smile, Addison removed the apartment key from her purse. "I suppose I won't be needing it anymore. And," she added, sparing a glance for Meredith, "I'm sure you don't want any more awkward interruptions."

"You've got that right." Derek accepted the key, then curled his fingers around it.

Meredith waited until Addison had left before jerking away from Derek. He pulled her right back.

"Derek!" She pushed at his hard chest without much success. "In case you missed it, I'm angry."

"Why?" He bent and kissed her throat, nipped her ear.

"You embarrassed me." How could he not realize that?

"What?" He tipped back to give her a look filled with endearing confusion. "The shower remark?"

"It was totally uncalled for."

"Showering with you is very called for." He kissed her again, and Meredith felt her resolve quickly melting away. She didn't really blame herself because this was all too new, too unexpected for her. Even in her dreams, Derek had never been this attentive, this attracted. It was enough to rattle even the most level headed woman.

"Derek," Meredith complained, albeit without much inten­sity, "I really do need to go home."

He dropped his forehead to her shoulder with a groan. "Why?"

"I have to check my messages, get my car looked at, shower—_in my own bathroom_—get into my own clothes. And I have to get a good night's sleep so that first thing to­morrow, I can find a job."

"You plan to go job hunting tomorrow?"

There was a note of disappointment in his tone. Had he wanted to see her again? "Derek, I live on my income. No, I won't starve overnight. I'm sensible about saving for a rainy day. But I can't take unemployment lightly either, so finding a job is a priority." And because she wanted to make him her priority, she said, "I'm really sorry."

He considered her for a long moment, then finally nodded. "I understand. I have some things I have to work on anyway."

Meredith got a sick feeling. "Oh?"

His grin was lopsided, charming. "Yeah. I've gotta find a job, too, remember?" He chuckled at her surprise, then hugged her off her feet. "Did you forget you weren't the only one fired?"

"Oh, but surely..."

"No, don't say it, Meredith. I'm not going back to work for her. If Mary and I are ever going to get along, if there's to be any type of family atmosphere, then she has to know she can't manipulate me like this."

Meredith hated to admit it, but Derek was right. Because Mary knew he loved the Foundation and the cClinic, she thought she could use it to control him. "She's going to be hurt."

"She'll get over it. I know my mother. Besides, she'll probably enjoy getting involved again. She stepped aside because she thought it was the thing to do, not be­cause she thought I could do any better."

"You have done better, though. As her personal secre­tary, I'm privy to all Mary's private information. I know she has far more assets now than she did before you took over. Her stock has nearly doubled, The Foundation has improved its reputation and doubled its funds, and all her property investments are thriving—thanks to you. And the clinic has also a good reputation. The staff performs high surgeries – thanks to you"

Meredith reached up and cupped Derek's face. "You're pretty special, you know that, Derek?"

Just that easily, the fascinating heat was back in his eyes. He started to bend down to her—and another rap sounded at the door.

Derek groaned. "What now?"

Chuckling, Meredith said, "Maybe Addison forgot something. You did take her key."

Before Meredith could protest, Derek strode to the door, glanced out the peephole, and opened it.

* * *

**So, who is at the door?**

**I am writing the next chapter... I will update ... soon... I hope! No.. I promise !!**

**Thanks for your reviews..**


	14. Chapter 14

In a flash, Meredith leapt behind the couch. Because there was a sofa table situated there, but the table was transparent, it was unavailing to hide behind. "Derek! We're not properly dressed."

"It's just Mark," he told her, "and he's seen my underwear before."

"Not on me, he hasn't!"

Meredith heard Mark laugh, and she peeked over the back of the sofa at him. He didn't look any the worse for his night of drunken revelry. In fact, he looked really good—like he always did. He wore a white polo shirt with an open collar that showed a generous and sexy chest. The shirt was tucked neatly into faded, snug-fitting jeans.

Mark grinned, showing a dimple in his left cheek and strong white teeth. "Hi Mer."

"Mark." At this rate, Meredith expected to burn herself up with embarrassment. "If you'll just turn your back, I'll es­cape to the ..." She drew to a verbal halt, unwilling to admit that her clothes were scattered over Derek's bed­room floor. "I'll dash down the hall and dress."

"I dunno," Mark teased. "I'm awful curious now. You say you're wearing Derek's underwear?"

Derek, the rat, just grinned. "She looks real cute in them, too."

"S'that right?" Mark started toward the sofa.

Meredith's heart did a somersault at his feigned approach. "Mark Sloane, you turn your back right now!"

Mark stopped and turned to Derek. "She's screeching. I never heard Meredith screech before."

"Yeah." Derek nodded, watching Meredith thoughtfully. "But then, she's had a rough night."

"Derek!" The two of them together were enough to flus­ter any woman.

He winked at her. "Get your mind out of the gutter, honey. I was talking about Mary firing you."

"Oh."

Mark nearly strangled on his laughter this time.

"You think it's funny," Meredith challenged, still cowering behind the furniture, "that I'm without a job?"

Mark's expression froze comically. "You mean the old witch really did fire you? You're kidding!"

"She really did," Derek told him, then he walked to Meredith. "Come on out, Meredith. Mark won't peek."

"Scout's honour," Mark agreed, and he finally turned his back.

Meredith scooted out and felt Derek's hand on her backside as she did so. She glared at him, and he said, "Just help­ing."

"Yeah, right." She turned to march down the hall. "You both need a swift kick."

As she headed into Derek's bedroom and closed the door hard, Meredith also thought how similar the brothers were— especially in warped senses of humour. Before she'd fin­ished pulling on her wrinkled, damaged skirt, which thankfully still had a button at the waistband, she was smiling.

Mark waited until he knew Meredith was almost out of sight, then he peeked. He just couldn't help himself. It was enough of a shock that Derek was apparently interested in Meredith, even sexually involved with her. But it was doubly intriguing to think of Meredith bouncing around in boxers.

He'd only gotten a glimpse of her bare legs, her beautiful body buried beneath one of Derek's white shirts, when Derek shoved him "You told her you wouldn't look."

"Yeah, well, I was never a Scout." Mark eyed his brother. "What the hell's going on, Derek?"

"I told you all of it last night."

"You sure as certain didn't tell me about Meredith. I re­member she stopped by—I wasn't too drunk to recall that." He propped his hands on his hips. "But now I'm wondering if she ever left."

"None of your business, Mark." Derek strode toward the kitchen and placed a door key on top of the fridge. Mark followed him.

"She's a nice girl."

"Real nice," Derek agreed. Then, with the gravity so much a part of him, he added, "Meredith is unlike any woman I've ever known."

Mark pulled out a kitchen chair and sprawled into it. "You got anything to drink?"

"Didn't you have enough last night?"

Grinning, Mark said, "I had too much, if you want the truth."

Grunting in agreement to that, Derek asked, "Want me to put on coffee?"

"Yeah, and make it strong. I've still got something of a hangover, so maybe the caffeine will help." He rubbed his temples. "Remind me never to drink with you again."

"Ditto." Derek went through the cabinets while Mark considered the situation.

He studied Derek, and noticed that he looked more re­laxed now than he had in recent months. Even after get­ting rip-roaring drunk, he looked . . . more peaceful.

He also looked bigger. His brother was a prime speci­men, a fact that made Mark proud. But now he looked .. . enormous. "Is it my imagination or are you getting big-ger?"

Derek shrugged as he measured coffee into the strainer. "The last few months I've spent more time in the gym, tak­ing out my frustrations on the heavy bag and anyone who'd volunteer to spar."

"Sexual frustration?" It was a rhetorical question be­cause Mark had warned Derek all along that Addison wasn't the type of warm, open woman a man wanted to be tied to. Not that he was an expert on marriage, and not that he was in any hurry to leg shackle himself. At a tender thirty-four, Mark figured he had years before he had to worry about it. But he knew damn good and well that, if he ever did marry, it'd be to a woman who gave him one hundred and fifty percent—in bed and out.

"It doesn't matter now." Derek spoke in an offhand manner that didn't fool Mark at all.

His suspicions grew. "What did you mean about Meredith being different?"

His back still to Mark, Derek grumbled, "What is this? Twenty questions?"

"Just curious."

"Some things aren't any of your damn business."

"So you got something private going on with Meredith?" That goad got to Derek, and he turned to Mark with a fierce frown.

"Meredith is genuine. Up-front." His frown turned thoughtful, and he folded his arms. "You know, I almost want to say fearless, but that's not the right word."

"What about honourable?"

Derek paused, then nodded sharply. "Yeah, that suits Meredith." He grinned. "And she's protective."

"Of you?"

Derek dumped water into the coffeemaker, switched it on, and then pulled out his chair. "Yeah. It's the damned­est thing. Meredith doesn't mind giving me hell, but she takes exception any time someone else tries to."

"She's the mothering sort." Mark had noticed that about Meredith almost from the moment he'd met her.

Derek said, "She doesn't seem to realize that I don't need coddling, that I can take care of myself."

Mark lifted his brows. "Coddling is nice every now and then"

"Yeah."

"It's no wonder Meredith seems different to you," Mark said finally, "considering the type of women you knew growing up."

The coffeemaker sputtered to a halt and Derek stood to fill two mugs. "It's more than that. You're right that Meredith isn't anything like those women. But she's not like the women in her social circle either."

"You mean Mary's social circle?"

Derek handed him a steaming cup. "Whatever. I don't know any other woman who would have put up with cheese sandwiches for dinner while wearing my boxers."

Mark laughed so abruptly, he nearly spit his coffee across the table.

And then Meredith marched in.

She'd brushed out her long hair and put on her ruined skirt and shoes. She still wore Derek's white shirt, hanging loose over the skirt to mid-thigh. It was an odd, mis­matched outfit, yet it somehow looked adorable on her.

She folded her arms over her breasts and looked at both of them before settling her gaze on Derek. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to borrow your shirt. I need to have it dry-cleaned now anyway, and I need it to cover my ruined zipper. And I'll need a bag or something to carry my pantyhose and my sweater home. There's no way I can wear them."

"What about your bra? Are you wearing it?"

Mark sat back to enjoy himself. He'd never known his brother to deliberately embarrass a woman before. Just the opposite; Derek had a gallant streak toward women and kids that ran a mile wide. But Mark had to admit, flus­tering Meredith was downright fun, so he didn't blame Derek much.

Meredith's jaw dropped, then snapped shut. She set her mouth in a mulish line, but she didn't take the bait. With slow, precise enunciation, she said, "I'm going to call a cab."

Derek sat up straight. "Hell no. I'll drive you home."

"I don't need you to drive me home, thank you very much."

"I'm doing it anyway."

"Derek." She glanced at Mark with what looked like an apology for Derek's bad manners. Mark winked at her. Meredith sighed. "Derek, you have company."

He scoffed. "It's just Mark. He doesn't want you to take a cab either."

Luckily, to Mark's way of thinking, Meredith didn't ask him to verify that. Personally he didn't know what Derek had against a cab, but he didn't want to disagree with him and he didn't want to get pulled into their squabble.

"I'm ready to go and I'm not a child," Meredith stated. "I can make it home in a cab just fine."

"No."

Meredith looked distinctly stubborn about it. _"Yes."_

Derek looked more than stubborn. "No way, Meredith."

They made an amusing couple, to Mark's way of think­ing. Derek needed someone like Meredith. She was a woman who wouldn't be pushed around but who would put her­self in the line of fire to protect those people she cared about. Her feminine strength was a match to Derek's strong, take-charge personality. And Meredith —well, bless her heart, she didn't hesitate to speak her mind. Derek al­ways did appreciate an honest woman—and as to that, so did Mark.

Derek's phone rang, making it impossible for Meredith to continue to argue. Derek shoved himself out of his seat and snatched up the receiver from the wall. Since it was on the opposite side of the kitchen, he had his back to Meredith. He barked, "Hello?"

Meredith glared at his back, and for a moment there, Mark thought she might actually stick out her tongue. But she showed great restraint and instead dropped into the seat he'd vacated. She picked up Derek's coffee cup and took a sip. She immediately plunked it back down and shuddered. "Good God, who made the coffee? It's awful."

Mark toasted her. "We were both in need of the caffeine kick."

Meredith's expression softened as she pushed the cup out of reach. "Feeling the effects of last night's drinking binge?"

"When I first woke up this morning, I thought my eye­balls had fallen out. It's taken me all day to begin feeling human again."

Meredith smiled. "Hopefully last night taught you some­thing."

Mark scrutinized her, appreciating how she looked in Derek's shirt. "Yeah, it taught me that all the fun happens after I leave."

She blushed and frowned at him at the same time.

Derek's voice rose, drawing their attention. "For the last time, it's not my problem, Andrew. No, and that's final." He hesitated and then growled, "I told you, I'm fired, so there's nothing I can do. Call Mary and tell her what's going on."

Meredith looked at Mark, appalled, and Mark winced. "Trouble at the Foundation?"

"I was afraid of that." Meredith watched Derek with a worried frown. "Mary insisted on hiring another manager for take care of the new activities. I in­terviewed him last week, and I told Mary he wasn't the most even-tempered man I'd ever met." She glanced at Mark. "He was actually a rude, snooty jerk. But Mary only cared about his reference, not his person­ality. It sounds like he's ready to start work." Mark grinned. "Perfect timing on his part. He's arrived right in the middle of chaos."

Meredith didn't see the humour in the situation. "Mary needs Derek, but he's right that she lords his interest in the Foundation over him. I don't know what to do."

Mark propped his elbows on the table and regarded her "Do? You were fired too, Meredith , so it seems to me it's not your problem."

She shook her head. "I know how you feel about Mary, Mark. But you're all family. It's not good to have this level of discord."

"Mary thrives on discord."

"She's afraid of losing control."

Personally, Mark didn't think Mary Shepherd was afraid of anything, but since he knew Meredith was fond of her, he held his peace. "I have a suggestion."

"On how to patch things up?"

He snorted. "Hell no. I meant that I'm leaving in just a few minutes anyway. I have some things to do, and if you want, I'll give you a ride home."

Derek hung up the phone in time to hear Mark's com­ment. "I'm driving her home."

Meredith stood. "No you're not. You need to go to the Foundation."

Derek glowered down at her. "Like hell I will. I don't work for Mary anymore, so it's not my problem. Let her deal with it."

"This has nothing to do with what's happened between you and Mary." She touched his chest and gave him a solemn look. "You'll go for all the employees who are loyal to you, all the friends you've made there. You owe it to them to explain things, Derek, to help them under­stand."

Derek's frown darkened even more. It was an interesting thing to watch, because Meredith didn't back down one bit. If anything, she stepped closer to Derek. She lifted her hand from his chest to his jaw. Mark watched in awe.

"Think about it, Derek. Do you want any of them to act so stupidly that they get fired by Mary, too? You told me Andrew was perfect for the job as accountant, and that he's supporting aging parents as well as his own wife and kids. And you said Enrico was thrilled to be hired as the show, that he saw this as his chance to settle down."

Derek made a rude sound. "Yeah, well, I'd like to re-evaluate that assessment. Enrico is a hound dog who'll prob­ably always run around."

Meredith seemed to be considering that comment, though Mark doubted she understood Derek's sentiments. Finally she shook her head and went on with dogged determina­tion. "Well, then, what about the others ? They're making a great effort for The Foundation. And the volunteers, and the donors ?"

Derek rolled his eyes and looked at Mark. "Did you know Meredith was such a pushy broad?"

Meredith let loose with an indignant gasp.

"Yeah," Mark said, grinning at her, "I'd gotten that im­pression. At least over things she considers important." And Mark had no doubts that Meredith considered Derek very important. She didn't want him to have any regrets.

Meredith turned away in high dudgeon, ready for a grand exodus, and Derek pulled her back around and into his arms. Mark watched with interest as Derek treated her to a very passionate kiss that had her groaning softly, then clutching at him.

Deciding he was too single to witness such outrageous displays of affection, Mark gave them pri­vacy by walking out of the kitchen. He was still a little staggered by the idea of Derek and Meredith as a couple. And he couldn't help but worry about Meredith. As Derek said, Meredith was unique and needed special care. He hoped Derek remembered that.

But the idea was growing on him. They complemented each other, and it was plain that Derek found Meredith very sexy. Mark had never seen his brother look at Addison the way he looked at Meredith.

Two minutes later Meredith and Derek joined him. Derek's smile was the epitome of male contentment, and Meredith was warmly flushed.

"She's going to ride home with you," Derek announced.

"And," Meredith muttered, "Derek is going to go to the Foundation and smooth things over."

"A compromise?" Mark asked, and damn if he didn't feel almost as satisfied as his brother. Meredith was not only a gentle, intelligent woman, she was also a reasonable, calm­ing influence—just what his brother needed right now after all the hell he'd been through.

Except that Derek claimed he was done with the idea of matrimony. And Meredith, with her big heart and bigger in­nocence, was definitely a marrying-type woman.

Mark frowned in concern. He didn't know how it'd all work out, but he trusted Derek to do what was right. And in the meantime, he'd just enjoy the show.

* * *


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks for your reviews...** **I'm very glad you like this fic... **

* * *

Meredith was relieved to have made it to Mark's car with­out running into anyone besides Maxwell. "I appreciate the ride," she told Mark. 

He pulled out into the traffic and nodded. "Not a prob­lem. I was heading out anyway. I just stopped by to check on Derek, to make sure he hadn't continued drinking this morning."

"You know Derek better than that."

"I know he was madder than hell last night. What I didn't know," Mark teased, "was that you stuck around to ... soothe his savage temper."

Meredith refused to blush again. "I hope you didn't cut your visit short on my account."

"Nope. I've been running an ad for a new waitress in the bar. I have to be at the hotel in an hour to do two interviews. Wish me luck that one of them will suit, because I'm getting desperate."

"You're hiring someone?" Meredith liked Mark's small hotel at the opposite end of town. It was plain but clean, with around twenty units situated in a _U _around a built-in rec­tangular pool. There was a game room with two pool ta­bles and a small bar that served drinks and soup and sandwiches.

"Yeah, one of my employees quit without notice, leav­ing me in the lurch. I've gone through three women since, but none of them are working out."

"How come?"

"Let's see—the first one kept coming on to me."

Meredith laughed. "Oh, and I can see what a terrible prob­lem that'd be!"

"Actually, it was," Mark said, summoning up a look of mock insult. Then, more seriously, "I make a point of not dating employees at all. It can lead to legal complications. Only this one lady wouldn't take no for an answer."

Fascinated, Meredith twisted in her seat to face him. "What did she do?"

Mark rolled one shoulder and gave her a quick look. "You really want to hear this?"

"Yes." Meredith had always considered Mark a real ladies' man. The idea of him turning women down intrigued her.

"Well, somehow she got it into her head that I had money, like she thought I owned the hotel free and clear or something. She thought I'd make good husband material and showed up in my room one night. I found out later from some of the other employees that she intended to screw my brains out, figuring after getting a taste of what I'd been missing, I'd fall madly in love."

Meredith bit her lip. Mark made it sound like the most ridiculous idea in the world—and he was right. Sex and love often had nothing in common. But she wouldn't feel guilty about having sex with Derek. He was her dream come to life, and she intended to enjoy every moment.

Meredith cleared her throat. "I guess since you live at the hotel, it'd be easy for a woman to sneak in on you?"

"Easy enough," Mark agreed. "Everyone who works for me knows where my suite of rooms are, especially since they're off limits."

"What did you do when you found her there?"

He flicked a glance at Meredith. "I hadn't turned on the lights before falling into bed. It had been a very long day and I was already half asleep."

"Mark?"

"I didn't know who it was," he said in his defense. "I re­acted on instinct."

"You threw her out of the bed?"

"Yep, tossed her right out onto the floor. She didn't like that much." He grinned, as if it were a favorite memory. "She protested, causing a real racket. But I protested more, and before we were done half the hotel knew what was going on. Being the lady was naked, she was doubly pissed by my lack of interest, and she finally left."

"Naked?"

He laughed again. "No. She pulled on her dress first. But she had to face a crowd in the hall. Thankfully, that was that."

Meredith shook her head in disbelief. "I've led such a shel­tered life."

"Yeah, I imagine you have."

His quick agreement bothered her. She hadn't been _that _sheltered. She understood about the world. "What about the other two?"

"One stole from me. I caught her red-handed, trying to stick a bottle of whiskey in her purse. The other was con­tinually late."

Meredith wasn't really a brazen person, but she did need a job, and this seemed like too good a situation to pass up. "Can I ask what you pay?"

"Base pay isn't that high, but the average tips are great." When he quoted a figure for Meredith, she was stunned.

"No kidding? Just for serving drinks?"

"It's not as easy as you probably think, Meredith. Week­ends and evenings can get really busy. Some of the cus­tomers can be a real pain. The trays get heavy, the crowd gets impatient..."

"What are the hours?"

As if just catching on to her line of questioning, Mark said, "Oh, no, Meredith. Really. You wouldn't be interested."

"Why not?"

_"Why not, why not?" _he muttered. "Well, the hours are late on the weekend, for one thing."

"I can adjust to that."

He groaned under his breath, "Oh, God." Then louder, "Meredith, really, men come on to the women all the time, and..."

She laughed. "I hardly think _I'd _need to worry about that, Mark. Men don't come on to me." Then a thought oc­curred to her, and she wanted to shrink into the car seat. "Um, that is, unless you only want someone sexy and voluptuous for the job."

"No!" He looked away from the road to glare at her. "Damn it, I didn't mean that at all." He pulled up to a red light and stopped. Twisting in his seat to face her, he said, "Besides, you _are _sexy."

Meredith ignored the compliment since he'd been more or less coerced into it. "I wouldn't expect any favouritism, Mark, but I'd love to apply for the job."

"Meredith ..." Mark sounded almost desperate, then he rushed to say, "How can you date Derek if you're working every night?"

"We're not dating."

He looked at her again, this time incredulous. "That's not the impression I got." The light turned green and he eased forward.

Meredith wondered how to explain. Surely assignations with a sex slave—she really did like that term—weren't considered dates. She wasn't positive about it, because re­ally, she'd never had sex before, much less been a slave about sit. She hadn't even had all that many dates. But she felt certain there was a difference.

Of course, there was no way to explain all that to Mark. "We're not dating," she insisted.

And Mark said, "Derek isn't going to like this."

"Derek isn't my boss." Except in the bedroom. "So if that's your only objection, then I take it I can fill out an application?"

Mark ran a hand through his hair, leaving it standing on end. He locked his jaw and groused, "Yeah, sure. Why not? Come in tomorrow afternoon for a trial run, say around noon?"

"I'll be there! And Mark?"

Sounding sickly, he said, "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

* * *

Mary paced, uncertain what to do. She detested her current loss of control over this insane situation. It seemed the older she got, the less impact she had on others. Intolerable. Since reaching adulthood, she'd always been able to keep her small world in tact, in her own manner of orderliness. 

Mary sighed and took another turn around her desk— a slow turn, because her arthritis had been acting up lately and all this ridiculous excitement was wearing on her. Getting old was hell.

A large oil painting of Pierce, her husband, done a year before he'd died, hung on the far wall. Mary braced herself against the pain of failure and looked at it. Her husband and her ­son had the same magnificent coloring. Handsome devils, both of them. Equally bull-headed. Each determined to do things his own way. Mary turned away from the painting. What Derek needed was the guidance she'd given him. She wanted his future secured. Matching him with Addison would have accomplished so much, but Derek seemed determined to ruin that.

Mary straightened and marched to her desk. Derek was his own man. She'd find a way to get things back on track—for his sake. She'd lost Pierce, but she wouldn't lose Derek. She'd do what she had to do, and he'd understand that it was all for his own good. Eventually.

* * *

Derek entered in The Foundation, pausing just inside the ornate double doors with the intricately etched glass panels. He peered around at the familiar faces, cursing himself for being foolish enough to be there. He could think of a dozen things he'd rather be doing at the mo­ment, and they all had to do with Meredith being naked. 

Damn, she had a great body. Her breasts were beautiful, not to mention her nipples. They were velvety pink and ultra sensitive, and it didn't take much more than a soft suck to get her going.

"Shit," Derek muttered under his breath, aware of a tightening in his groin. He had to get his mind on safer ground, and fast.

Safer ground happened moments later when Andrew rushed up to him.

"Damn, I'm glad to see you, Derek." Andrew's impecca­bly trimmed brown hair was mussed and his normally calm manner was harried. "It was bad enough a few hours ago, when everything started, but now it's gotten impossi­ble. I have donors getting upset because they weren't received yet by the new manager. They wait for a long time. And they threaten to withdraw their funds. And that, it would be a disaster."

"Damn." Derek clapped him on the shoulder and started through the room toward the office. He should have entered that way, but since he was already there, he'd wanted to see if everything was going as it should. Meredith had evidently gotten to him, made him feel responsible for things that were no longer his to deal with.

He saw Addison seated discreetly at a corner table in the room where took place the show, neatly tucked away from prying eyes. She'd changed clothes and now wore a simple black dress and heels. Around her throat was the pearl choker Derek had bought her on her last birthday. He still couldn't get over what a fool he'd been. She must have felt his gaze because she looked up, locked eyes with him, and straightened expectantly. Derek merely nodded to her and kept going. He hoped like hell Addison knew what she was doing, but at the moment she was the least of his concerns. He passed the employees all huddled together. When they saw him, their expressions brightened.

Dean, an assistant's manager, stepped forward. "What the hell are we going to do, Mr. Shepherd?"

He scowled at Dean, and included the other two in his look. "Standing here looking guilty isn't going to help. Go out there and offer everyone a drink as an apology for the delay. Tell Del Torro to start a performance, to distract them from the time. And regardless of how irate anyone is, be polite."

They all bobbed their heads.

Get it over with, Derek thought. "While you're all three here together, I want to give you some news."

"Another raise?" Greg asked, half joking, half hope­ful.

Derek was grim. With him out of the picture, no one would be getting another raise for a while. Mary was tight with the purse strings, and she'd always bitched at the salaries Derek paid. There was even a chance she'd hire in cheaper help now that Derek had forced the responsibil­ity onto her.

"Whether or not you get any more raises won't be up to me," Derek explained. "I got canned yesterday, so now you'll be dealing directly with Mary Shepherd, the owner, or whoever she hires in my place."

Dean sputtered in shock. "Fired! But... I thought your mother owned the joint."

"And it was my mother who fired me."

"Why?" Greg demanded.

They were a loyal lot—and Derek admitted to himself that he'd miss them. "Personal reasons. Nothing you need to be concerned with. But," he said, cutting off more ques­tions and protests, "you do need to be concerned with the donors. So get out there and start offering some drinks."

They grumbled, casting looks at each other, but finally started off. Derek was proud of each of them.

Dean started to hurry away, too, but Derek detained him with a hand on his arm. When Dean looked up, Derek said, "Lose the swear words."

Dean flushed. "No one heard me."

"I heard you."

Dean hunched his shoulders. "Sorry."

"Just watch it from now on. Always remember that there are ladies in the room."

With that, Derek strode away. He could hardly believe Meredith had talked him into this. Mary was well seasoned enough to deal with her own messes.

But the second Derek pushed through the doors into the office, a paperweight came past his head. It hit the wall next to his right ear with a loud noise, then dropped to the floor and rolled up against Derek's shoe. He stared at that paperweight in stark amazement and fast-churning fury. He was not in the mood for such foolishness. His stride purposeful, his look mean, Derek stalked for­ward while the two managers—one he'd hired, the other brand new—backed up in horror. What a mess!

A morbid hush fell in the bustling room.

The secretaries' managers, who had retreated out of the line of fire, stared wide-eyed with anticipation.

Derek stopped directly in front of both managers. His jaw was locked so hard it took him a moment to get the words out. And then he said, "You're fired. Get out now."

Colman, the manager Derek had hired, sputtered indignantly. "You can't fire me! We have many projects to be prepared."

Derek pierced him with a glare. "You're not working anyway, Colman, so you're useless to me and to the Foundation." He turned to the new manager. "You'll be paid for your time and trouble."

"You," the man intoned, pulling his arrogance around him like a shield, "did not hire me."

"Doesn't matter. I've been put in charge of dealing with you. If you want to take it up with someone else later, fine. But not now." Derek turned to the secretaries. "Get to work. Have the donors listened and satisfied in fifteen minutes flat or you're all fired, too."

In a flash, all the staff shown great zeal in tidying away the office.

Satisfied, Derek turned to leave. Colman kept pace beside him until Derek halted at the door.

"This is not my fault, Derek." He gestured to the other manager with stark accusation. "This, this ..."

"Manager?" Derek supplied with a sharp dose of sarcasm.

Colman's round face turned red. "He barged in here and tried to take over."

"I was hired as the head manager," the man declared.

Derek shook his head. "You both remind me of kindergartners on the playground, fighting over a ball. Grow up already."

Colman again stopped him from leaving. "I'm really fired?"

Carefully masking his triumph, Derek eyed him. "Unless you want to get working, right now, without another sin­gle conflict. I won't have the reputation of the Foundation damaged over a temper tantrum."

Colman sent a smug look at the new manager and turned back to his desk.

The new manager stepped forward. "I'm Ridge Jenkins. A young lady, Meredith Grey, hired me. I intend to call her about this outrage immediately."

"Tough for you," Derek told him. "Meredith is no longer in a position to hire anyone. If you have a gripe, take it straight to Mary Shepherd. She's Meredith's former employer and owner of The Foundation."

A fresh hush fell over the office while everyone ab­sorbed the impact of Derek's statement with shocked dis­belief. Since he had their attention, Derek decided to get his own announcement out of the way.

"You all might as well know, this is my last night." Actually, this trip was on borrowed time, thanks to Meredith's interference and do-gooder tendencies, but he saw no rea­son to explain that to anyone.

"Here on out," he added, "you have a problem, you call Mary Shepherd directly. If you need her number, get it from Andrew."

Mouths fell open, eyes bugged, but no one said a word.

Feeling vaguely uncomfortable with the watchful si­lence, Derek turned and walked out. The finality of the moment filled him with mixed sensations.

He wanted Meredith, and that sensation was the strongest and most alarming of all.

As Derek headed for the front doors, nodding to regu­lars and giving casual greetings along the way, the sounds of a guitar began filling the theatre.

He paused, glancing toward the center of the floor, where Enrico Del Torro eased into a soft, romantic ballad ripe with subtle suggestion and teasing heat. The tune was enhanced by his Spanish accent.

He was dressed in black jeans and boots with an open-necked gunmetal gray silk shirt. Several silver chains hung around his neck. His overlong hair had been tied back, and a diamond stud gleamed in one ear. He sat on a stool with a microphone in front of him, his guitar held gently in his arms. The audience loved him.

Del Torro was one hell of an entertainer, Derek had to admit. He had exceeded Derek's expectations and then some.

Black eyes gleaming, Enrico tipped his head at Derek. Derek folded his arms and waited until Enrico trans­ferred his gaze toward a table full of ladies. With Enrico's attention, they appeared ready to swoon. At the mature age of forty, Enrico Del Torro—the Bull—still exuded enough sex ap­peal to draw plenty of females, even those half his age.

The male employees were alternately watching the show, talking to the guests, and sparing covetous glances at Addison. They had always admired her, and Derek had no doubt lustful thoughts often plagued their minds.

Addison was lovely, no two ways about it. On top of that, she was genuinely nice, if a bit too proper. Looking at the staff now, Derek accepted that he wasn't the only man who'd fantasized about turning Addison into a wild woman.

After making love to her just once, those fantasies had been long gone.

Addison had seldom visited the Foundation without an es­cort, either himself or her parents or a friend. So her solo appearance tonight was enough to draw speculation. But she also looked very melancholy. She wasn't just alone. She was . . . lonely. Derek did his best to ignore that fact. Her moods no longer concerned him.

Andrew stood straight and silent. He had a fixed expression on his face, and when Derek followed his gaze, he realized it was Addison he watched so intently.

Damn, did she have everyone's attention tonight?

Addison, her face softly lit by a fat candle in the center of her table, idly toyed with a napkin. She was either un­aware or uncaring of being eyed by several men. Derek considered approaching her but changed his mind. There was no point to it. She was old enough to make her own decisions, and in his opinion, it was past time she started doing just that.

Andrew stopped him before he could make his escape. His gaze speculative, he said, "Addison looks beautiful tonight."

Derek gave him a lazy look. "Addison always makes a nice appearance."

"True, true."

Derek started to leave again, and Andrew added, "It's none of my business, but—"

"It's none of your business."

Holding up his hands, Andrew said, "Fine. I under­stand. No problem."

"Glad to hear it. And if you should run into any prob­lems, take them up with Mary."

"But. . ."

"I mean it, Andrew." Derek made sure there was no way for Andrew to misunderstand. "I've told the others, and I'll make calls tomorrow to anyone who wasn't here tonight. I'm totally out of it, and I won't take it kindly if you or anyone else tries to drag me back into it again."

"Right. Got it." Andrew hesitated, then said, "I hope we'll at least see you around?" His gaze flashed to Addison and back again. "You know, just as a friend."

"Maybe. We'll see." Derek glanced at Addison, too. She was turned in her seat, watching him.

Refusing to be drawn in by her lost act, Derek coldly turned away—and caught Enrico's narrow attention. With a sound of disgust, Derek looked around and realized all the employees were also peering at him.

He had no idea what they all expected of him, but what­ever it was, they were doomed to disappointment.

Annoyed at himself, Derek walked out. Once in his car, he tried calling Meredith on his cell phone, but her number was busy. Then he decided not to call her at all. He'd see her again in the morning, and that was soon enough.

He'd make it soon enough—even if it felt like forever.

* * *


	16. Chapter 16

* * *

Meredith snatched up the phone on the fourth ring. Her hair was soaked, leaving rivulets of water trailing down her back, her legs, and onto her small decorative rug. 

Because she'd raced straight out of the shower, she was a bit breathless when she said, "Hello?"

"I was just about to hang up, young lady."

Disappointment seeped in. Though it was late and she'd seen him only a few hours earlier, Meredith had hoped it might be Derek calling just to tell her good night. How dumb. The man had better things to do than spend his every thought on her.

"Hello, Mary." Meredith tried to infuse a little enthusi­asm into her voice. She wasn't overly successful. "Sorry, but I was in the shower."

"Well, that's better than what I was beginning to imag­ine."

"Oh?" A touch of caution struck Meredith. Anytime she dealt with Mary, she had to be on the alert. "What did you imagine?"

Mary huffed. "After that lurid display you and my son put on, you have to ask?"

Meredith frowned and refrained from replying. She'd have been happy with a phone call from Derek, yet Mary thought he might still be with her? That was too ridicu­lous.

"Is he there?" Mary asked impatiently.

"Derek? No, he's not."

A long pause filled the line, and then Mary sighed. "Meredith, we must talk."

The towel Meredith held around herself wasn't substantial enough to ward off the evening chill of her apartment. She shivered and started down the hall to her bedroom with the portable phone caught against her shoulder.

She wondered if Derek was still at the Foundation. Had he worked things out? If Addison did in fact have a lover there, would Derek attempt to confront him?

That thought filled Meredith with worry. Derek could more than handle himself physically; that wasn't a concern. But she knew he'd regret causing a scene.

"He's using you, Meredith."

The bald, blunt statement made Meredith stall just inside her bedroom and scattered every other thought away. Her stomach cramped. She drew a calming breath. "This isn't your business, Mary."

"Don't you take that attitude with me, young lady. He's my son and you're my employee—"

"Ex-employee." For the first time, Meredith took pleasure in pointing out that fact. With equal pleasure, she tacked on, "I think I've found a new job."

A heavy silence, fraught with disappointment, filled the line.

"Mary," Meredith said gently, "you did fire me, remem­ber?"

"Of course I remember," she snapped. "I'm not so old that I can't remember what happened hours ago."

"True. You're still sharp as a tack—except where Derek is concerned."

Because she knew Mary well, Meredith could easily imag­ine the way she was now pacing in her anger, how her spine would be rigidly straight, her mouth tight.

"If anyone is acting blind about my son, it's you." Mary's tone trembled with annoyance. "He's using you, Meredith, and you're letting him, when I always thought you had more sense than that."

"He's not using me."

"You know what he did to Addison, and he genuinely loved her."

"I know what you know," Meredith replied, "that he broke the engagement. But he wouldn't have done that without good reason."

"Whatever his reasons, they're moot at this point. He's with you on the rebound. But you're too naive, too . . . well..." Mary's voice rose. "Meredith, you won't hold his interest long."

"I know what I'm doing," Meredith said. She had no illu­sions, despite Mary's assumption of her naiveté.

"On the contrary, you don't have a clue. You just told me how sharp I am. Well, you're right. I'm sharp enough that I've noticed you never date. Doesn't matter what time I call, you're always at home alone. I doubt you were ever that popular in school, either, were you, Meredith ?"

Taking a firm grip on the phone and her own insecuri­ties, Meredith admitted, "No."

Mary softened. "I want you to be happy, Meredith , I re­ally do. But my son is out of your league, dear."

Meredith wanted to curl in on herself. She had no idea what to say to Mary.

"You're not homely or anything like that, Meredith"

Dryly, Meredith muttered, "Thank you."

"But. . . I'm going to be blunt here."

"Yes, Mary, don't hold back."

"Derek is used to beautiful women who present them­selves perfectly. Far as I can tell, you've never had a mani­cure or been to a salon. You don't know how to dress right and your hair . . . Oh Meredith , _your hair."_

Meredith held herself silent. What could she say? It was all true.

She reached up and tugged on a long, thick lock of sop­ping hair. It was slightly tangled—just as it had been the entire time she'd been with Derek.

Only once in all the time she'd spent at his apartment had she even thought to brush it out. He'd seen her this way, pretty much a mess.

Yet... it hadn't seemed to Meredith that he cared.

"You're a lovely person, Meredith, and you're very sweet."

Meredith wrinkled her nose. _Sweet._

"But you need to find a man more on your own level."

Meredith briefly wondered what level Mary referred to. Probably something subterranean, where all the homely, unpopular people hung out.

When Meredith didn't answer, Mary asked impatiently, "Are you still there, Meredith ?"

"Yes."

"I don't mean to be cruel, Meredith."

Hoping to use that as a means to end the conversation, Meredith said, "That's great. I appreciate your restraint, Mary, so maybe we should—"

"But Derek has to be my number-one concern."

Resigned, Meredith sighed and dropped to the edge of her mattress. She stared at her feet. Mary evidently had a lot to say and there'd be no dissuading her.

"Derek will be happy with Addison as his wife. He'll have everything. Respectability, sta­bility, all the luxuries and comfort money can buy. And he'll have the influence necessary to make his own way."

Personally, Meredith felt Derek already had those things, just not in the abundance Mary apparently deemed nec­essary. She made a noncommittal sound.

_"You _can't bring him those things, Meredith"

Meredith held the phone away from her ear and stared at it. Did Mary think she had dreams of marrying Derek? Well, dreams, yes. But reality? Meredith was a very reason­able, logical person, and marriage to Derek defied logic.

She loved him, and she, too, wanted what was best for him. For now, she was his sex slave.

It worked for her.

Replacing the phone to her ear, Meredith said, "You know, Mary, you should really be saying all this to Derek."

"You think I should tell Derek that you have no fashion sense? Don't be absurd."

Meredith almost laughed. Almost. "I'm sure Derek has come to that realization all on his own. No, I meant that you should be telling him how you have his best interests at heart. Disowning someone isn't the nicest way to get that across."

"He'll be back," Mary said, "and then we'll talk."

On her terms, Meredith assumed, shaking her head at the older woman's stubbornness. "I hope it won't be too late then."

"What does that mean?" Alarm caused Mary's voice to rise again.

"It means that Derek is a man full of potential, and more than capable of making it on his own. He is a brilliant brain surgeon. All the hospitals of the country are going to flight to have him in their staff. And you know that. Plus, he has a big social's circle, thanks to you, Mary. Once word is out that he's no longer working for you, how long do you think it'll be before others try to hire him?"

It was Mary's turn to fall silent. After a moment, she asked, "You're suggesting that Derek would betray me?"

"I'm saying Derek isn't a man to sit around mentally or physically idle. He likes a challenge, and he likes to stay busy. He's going to be working, and if you want him working for you, you'd better rethink a few things."

"Meredith Grey, that sounds like a threat!"

Meredith shook her head, all but fed up with the conversa­tion. "Mary, how could I threaten you? I don't even work for you anymore." The more she said it, the easier it got. "And as you've just pointed out, I don't carry any in­fluence with Derek. All I'm trying to do is point out a few things you might not have considered."

"I see."

Meredith could almost hear Mary's mind working.

"You were always good at that, Meredith."

"Thanks." Personally, Meredith thought she'd been a fan­tastic secretary. But Mary had fired her easily enough.

"That aside, Meredith, you have to understand. If Addison— who is beautiful and elegant and comfortable in any social setting—is having difficulty maintaining Derek's interest, how in the world do you think you can compete?"

Rather than repeat herself, Meredith said, "I really need to go, Mary. Was there anything else you wanted?"

"I want you to stay away from my son."

Because she had no intention of doing any such thing, Meredith said, "Your wishes are duly noted. Now I gotta run. Good-bye." And she hung up with Mary in mid-protest.

Meredith tossed the portable phone onto the bed and laid on her bed, thinking. Derek seemed to find her desirable, so she wasn't going to beat herself up over a few insensitive remarks by her _former _employer.

That decided, Meredith indulged in a secret little smile while she took underwear and a sleep shirt from her dresser drawers.

She might be ordinary, but people, even Mary, were labelling her as the "_other woman_." That in­sinuated she possessed a certain amount of feminine wiles, didn't it? People credited her with the ability to steal Derek away from Addison, and darn it, it was . . . fun. Compli­mentary. Meredith's smile widened into a grin, and in the next moment she chuckled.

Meredith Grey, femme fatale.

It was almost as exciting as being a sex slave.

What a strange twist her common, boring life had taken, thanks to Derek. He might not want her for more than a plaything, but to Meredith, that was pretty darn spe­cial, and more than she'd ever dared hope for.

* * *

Addison watched her lover as he moved, so smooth, so sexy. Her heart sank a little when he flirted with other women, when he teased and touched. Her stomach fluttered in the way it had when she'd been young and had sneaked off to the carnival. Riding the roller coaster without permission had filled her with the contrasting sensations of guilt and fear and excitement. 

The guilt now was stronger, of course. It pushed at her, almost smothering; she'd hurt so many people. At the same time, she felt daring and brave and sexier than she ever had in her life. How could she possibly re­gret that?

But the fear. . . God, the fear was the worst. What would her parents do if they found out? What would dear Mary do? Their disappointment would be unbearable. They expected so much from her, because all her life, she'd been the perfect daughter, the perfect lady.

With her lover, everything was different. She wasn't proper, but she was alive. With him, her body sizzled and burned, her heart expanded. He made her sweat and cry and laugh. He made her _feel._

Which was probably why she'd stupidly fallen in love with him.

Addison drew in a shuddering breath and pondered all the awful possibilities. What if he didn't really care for her as she did him, if he was just using her as a novelty, a woman normally out of his range?

She squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back panic. Dear God, if he didn't really care for her, she didn't know how she'd cope. No man had ever made her feel this way. No man had ever treated her as he did, a little coarse, a little rough.

She shivered, just remembering the base, carnal things he'd done to her—the things he'd relished doing. He'd wallowed in the unwilling responses of her body, licked at her sweat, at her belly, between her legs.

Addison gasped and looked around her. So many of the em­ployees were watching her, wondering why she was still there when Derek had left. She'd witnessed signs of pity, curiosity, and even some interest.

Yet her lover ignored her. Oh, she understood it was necessary. By her own insistence, they couldn't allow any­one to know of their involvement. But it still hurt. She wanted him to herself; she wanted to taste him again, to have him devour her.

In a rush, Addison grabbed up her small leather purse and rose to her feet. People stared, but she managed to politely ignore them. Enrico watched her go. Greg and Dean nod­ded her way. Andrew rushed to get her wrap.

She kept her head high and a reserved smile on her frozen face. "Thank you, Andrew."

Andrew looked as stiff as she felt. "My pleasure."

Without a backward glance, she walked out. This was difficult, and bound to get more so. But what could she do? She loved him, and for once she wanted to follow her heart rather than her parents' expectations.

For once she wanted to be a woman, not just a lady.

* * *


	17. Chapter 17

**

* * *

**Meredith was in the middle of applying a light touch of make up when her doorbell rang. She had exactly one hour to finish and get to Mark's hotel for her job interview. She was strangely excited. 

"Coming," she yelled when the doorbell rang yet again. She closed her compact and headed for the door. Her long sleep shirt was wrinkled from a night of tossing and turn­ing in between erotic dreams. Her flannel pants dragged the floor, almost hiding her thick gray socks. Her heavy hair, contained atop her head with a cloth-coated rubber band, wobbled as she bent to peek through the peephole.

Derek stood there, looking impatient. "Open up, Meredith."

She straightened with a jerk. Elation hit her first; she'd missed him so much!

Bemusement quickly followed because after Mary's painful phone call, she'd really planned to try to look her best when next she saw him. The clothes she wore, not to mention the mess of her hair, were about as far from her best as she could get.

Trying to improvise, Meredith called through the door, "What are you doing here, Derek?"

The question must have thrown him because he pounded on the door so hard it about stopped her heart. "Open up," he said again, this time with some annoyance.

Giving up, Meredith turned the locks and pulled the door wide. "Hi." Her smile came easily. No matter what, Derek still made her heart lift and her body tingle. He looked es­pecially good today in casual black slacks and a soft gray pullover. The dark colors made the pale blue of his eyes more noticeable than ever.

He'd never been in her apartment before and he started to automatically look around. But his gaze got caught on her, instead. He went still as he quietly scrutinized her body, starting with her piled-up hair and ending at her thick socks. Obviously amused, one side of his mouth kicked up and he said, "Hey."

"You want to come in?" Meredith asked, a little unnerved by that hot stare. It made her jumpy and needy, and truth was, she didn't have time for that right now. She had an appointment to keep.

Derek stepped in and closed the door behind him, then leaned on it. His gaze did dart around her uncluttered liv­ing room but came right back to her. "You look cute."

"Um . . . thanks."

He still watched her. "Come here, Meredith."

Meredith knew what that look in his eyes meant, especially when accompanied by that husky tone. She cleared her throat and asked, "Why?"

"Come here," he countered, "and I'll show you why."

Damn, damn, damn. The man was far too tempting. "Derek," she complained, even as she found herself inch­ing forward, "you have lousy timing."

He stalled and his eyes narrowed. "You have another date?"

She scoffed at that. "No. I have to finish getting ready. I have a job interview today at noon."

Derek had started to reach for her, but at her announce­ment, he dropped his hands. "A job interview? Where?"

"I don't want to tell you where yet. I may not get it, and then I'd be embarrassed."

He looked surprised by that admission and finally pulled her to him. Hugging her close into his chest, Derek said, "You don't ever have to be embarrassed with me, Meredith."

"I know I don't have to be, but I still would. I want this job. It's sounds like fun and I think I can make enough money there."

Derek tipped her back to see her face. "When do you have to be there?"

"Noon."

He rubbed his hands up and down her back, stopping to squeeze her waist beneath the large shirt. "We've got an hour."

"Now stop that!" Meredith swatted at him, then settled her hands flat on his chest. She could feel the steady thumping of his heart. "I have to be there in an hour, but it's a half-hour drive and I'm not even dressed yet. If I'd known you were coming over ..."

"Sorry. I finished some errands early." As if they'd been lovers for months instead of days, he leaned down and kissed her forehead. "I should have called first?"

"No, I don't mean that." The last thing Meredith wanted to do was discourage Derek from seeing her. She smiled. "Let it go on the record right now that you're welcome to drop in any time. I just wish I didn't have to go. Now that you're here, I want to be here, too."

"How long will you be?"

"I'm not sure. He said something about a trial run, so he may work me a few hours or something."

"He?"

Meredith blinked at the particular tone infused in that one word. Surely that wasn't possessiveness she heard? More likely it was mere curiosity. "The person who would hire me. He owns a business—a nice, respectable business— and he needs a new employee."

"I see."

He still looked disgruntled, and Meredith patted him. "I am sorry, Derek." And then, feeling a little shy, she added, "I missed you."

"That right?" His smile relaxed and his look became lazy. He leaned down and touched his forehead to hers. With his breath brushing her mouth, he whispered, "Did you think about me last night. Mer, about what we did?"

"Yes."

"Me, too."

She gulped. "I'm thinking about it right now."

"Good." Using the edge of his hand, he tipped up her face. "Then how about a kiss to tide me over until I can get you naked again?"

Meredith wrapped both arms around his neck and pressed her mouth to his. Derek let her have her way, bending enough to accommodate her but not taking the lead. It was wonderful, as she'd known it would be.

Derek tasted hot and exciting, and when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, he made a rough sound of pleasure that shivered down her spine and into her heart.

Pulling back the tiniest bit, Derek whispered, "You know, if I took you into the bedroom, the decision would be out of your hands."

The fog left Meredith 's muddled brain slowly, and she frowned. Maybe this sex-slave business would be more complicated than she'd figured on.

Derek pressed her, saying, "Right, Meredith?"

She scowled, wondering if he'd be cad enough to take such an advantage. "I suppose," she muttered.

He grinned and kissed her again. "Good thing I'm a generous task master, huh? At least, when I need to be." He patted her behind and stepped back. "But my patience isn't unlimited, woman. When _can _I see you?"

Both relieved and shamefully disappointed, Meredith said, "I'm not sure. Do you ... do you want me to maybe call you when I find out?" She hoped Derek didn't take that as an intrusion on his privacy. This relationship business, even if sexual rather than romantic in nature, had invisible lines that couldn't be crossed. Meredith just didn't have enough experience to know what those lines might be.

Derek didn't even blink. "You've got my cell phone number, right?"

Relieved, Meredith nodded. "I've got the numbers for any­one who ever had contact with Mary." She didn't men­tion that she knew his home and cell phone numbers by heart. "I'll let you know as soon as I know."

Derek started to leave but hesitated at the last second. He turned back to Meredith , cupped her face gently in his large, hot hands, and kissed her witless. "I like your hair like that. I like it down, too. And Meredith , I love how you look at me."

Meredith stared at the closed door for several moments after Derek had gone. She couldn't remember ever being so happy.

* * *

Mark watched Meredith work and had to shake his head in wonder. Damn, he never would have believed it, but she was perfect. Her smile, genuine in nature without an ounce of flirtation, did incredible things to every guy in the room. From five months old to eighty-five, they all re­sponded to her. Meredith somehow lit the place up, made it seem happier, more relaxed. 

Better.

Mark had no illusions. He was prosperous enough with his moderate, spotlessly clean hotel. He offered quiet, effi­cient service, so the rooms almost always stayed booked. And because he was located right off the expressway, the diner drew a lot of passersby, including regular truckers who stopped for breakfast and lunch.

Mark was happy with how things were going, but his clientele didn't include elite vacationers booked by upscale travel agents. More often than not, those who checked in were financially tight at best, on the shady side at worst. His spacious and orderly parking lot was filled with dusty, rusty, aged vehicles, and the luggage that passed through his doors often looked like it'd been through a war.

But he liked these people, and he related to them.

Luckily, this was his quiet crowd, a mix of truckers and families who'd stopped for lunch and not much drinking, so they rarely got out of hand. In fact, lunch tended to be subdued to the point of morbid.

Today people were chatting and laughing—_responding __to Meredith . _Her enthusiasm was infectious, and even his old balding cook, Horace, whistled while frying cheese sand­wiches. Meredith had struck an immediate rapport with the surly cook merely by admiring his tattoo. It was a naked woman, shown from the back, with her legs wrapped around his biceps. When Horace flexed his arm, the woman's ass wiggled.

Horace had done plenty of flexing for Meredith , and she'd been genuineloky enthralled each and every time. The bond was forged.

She had a similar affect on everyone.

And Meredith loved it. Her pretty brown eyes were alight with pleasure as she went from one task to the next with­out pause. Mark continued to watch her, and he continued to be amazed. He could see what Derek found so attractive—inside and out. How he'd known her so long and never noticed amazed Mark.

Rushing up to him moments later, Meredith said under her breath, "A six-dollar tip!" She squeezed the money as if it were gold rather than a few crumpled bills, and then she stuffed it into her apron pocket. "Do you believe that? And I only served him a deluxe burger and fries. Amazing. I _love _this job, Mark."

Then she was off again, warmly greeting a young couple who had just come in, waving to acknowledge a man in a booth who wanted more coffee. She was a bundle of inex­haustible energy and generosity.

Mark had to hire her, no way around it. He had hoped there'd be an excuse to gently turn her down. There'd been the slight possibility that she'd con­fuse or forget orders. Or that she'd be put off by the famil­iarity of some of the customers who couldn't seem to remember that this was the enlightened age of equality be­tween the sexes.

But not Meredith. She didn't take offence at anything, but she did get her point across. When one wizened old man had called her sweetie, she'd patted his wrinkled cheek and said, "Sure thing, pops," and then put an extra scoop of ice cream on his apple pie. The old guy had been so in­fatuated, he'd nearly slid off his bar stool.

There was only one hope left, and that was in the uni­form each waitress was required to wear. Mark had never seen Meredith in a skirt above her knees, so perhaps she'd balk at the semi short tan dresses, covered only by crisp white utility aprons. They were serviceable outfits, but they also had a vague resemblance to something out of a fetish catalogue. A few of his younger waitresses went so far as to wear heels with the dresses. Somehow he knew Meredith wouldn't.

Mark snagged Meredith as she started back to the kitchen. "A moment, Mer."

Her cheeks were flushed, her long hair held back in a ponytail that swished around the small of her back. "Okay, but can we make it quick?" she asked. "I've got orders piling up."

Conscientious to boot. Mark just knew Derek was going to kill him for hiring Meredith , but what else could he do? He drew a breath and bit the bullet. "You've got the job. Can you start tomorrow?"

Her eyes widened, her mouth opened, and then she let out a loud, uncharacteristic _whoop _and threw herself against him for a hearty hug.

Touched, unable not to smile, too, Mark returned the tight embrace. Meredith was soft and warm and he liked hug­ging her. She made him feel good. "It's just a job, Mer."

"Oh, no. It's a fun job, and everyone is so friendly, and I like this so much more than sitting in the library taking notes or doing correspondence or putting things on the computer for hours on end. That was so boring and so ... lonely."

Mark scowled. Mary had near worked Meredith to death and had never given her the appreciation she deserved. He wouldn't make the same mistake. Squeezing her again, Mark said, "Well, you've certainly impressed me. Customers have been hanging around longer just to talk with you."

She pushed back from his chest to blink at him. "They have?"

With his arms looped casually around her waist, Mark grinned. "You didn't realize? Hell, Meredith , you're a hit. A lot of truck drivers stop in here for coffee and sandwiches, and most times they look miserable. They've been on the road for hours and they're tired and lonesome. Today, in less than an hour, you had them all smiling."

"I did?" She sounded so hopeful.

Mark gently turned her. "Look around, Meredith."

Her attention went from one booth to the next, one bar stool to another. She gripped her hands in front of her. "They all look... happy."

"Not usually, but yeah, today they're light-hearted." He leaned down and kissed her ear. "Cuz of you, Meredith ."

She turned back to him with a blush. "Wow."

It amazed Mark that she hadn't noticed her affect on the customers, that she had no real idea of her appeal. "Derek won't be happy about you working here."

In typical Meredith fashion, she drew herself up. "Well, why ever not? This is a great place."

_Great. _Mark shook his head. "I've been robbed twice, Meredith . In the evenings, when people drink more, fights sometimes break out. No one has ever been seriously hurt, but there've been some minor scrapes, some black eyes. The cops have been here five times in two years. Derek is the protective sort. He grumbles about _me _being here, so I can only imagine what he'll have to say about me hiring you."

As if that idea was inconceivable, Meredith patted his chest and said, "Don't worry. Derek and I don't have that kind of relationship. He won't bother himself about where I work, I promise."

Her naiveté blew Mark away. What did Meredith think, that Derek was just playing with her? Come to that, _was he?_

Mark didn't think so, but everything had happened so fast, he couldn't be sure what his brother thought. The idea of anyone using Meredith didn't set well with Mark. He'd have to have another chat with Derek, to let him in on Meredith 's perception of their relationship. Hopefully, Derek would set her straight.

"What hours will I be working?" Meredith asked, inter­rupting his musing.

"Unfortunately, it'll vary and include some weekends." Derek was going to _kill _him. "Let me take you on a run­down of things."

Trying to block his brother's potential reaction at hav­ing his new relationship derailed with weekend work, Mark escorted Meredith to the kitchen where she turned in her or­ders. While the food was being prepared, she followed him to the quiet backroom with the pop and coffee machines, where she could take her breaks, and where the schedule was posted along with a time clock.

"I'll have a time card for you tomorrow, so don't forget to clock in and out. I'll write in the hours you worked today. For the rest of this week, you'll be replacing Rose, so go by her schedule. You can finish out her time today if you want."

"That'd be great!"

Still bemused by her attitude, Mark chuckled. "Great, huh? All right. I post the new schedule on Thursdays, and the week starts on Mondays. Any problems, let me know right away."

Meredith pulled a pencil and order pad out of her pocket and jotted down her hours. To Mark's amazement, she didn't look at all taken aback by the later days, but he made a mental note to try to give her as many evenings and week­ends off as possible.

"Got it."

Folding his arms over his chest, Mark looked her over. "Meredith, I have to get you a uniform."

Rather than answer, she bit her lip. For the first time since she'd arrived, she looked unsure of herself. Mark didn't understand. He'd expected her to not like the uniforms, but he hadn't expected her to look stricken over the prospect. After a few seconds of heavy silence during which Meredith fidgeted and didn't meet his gaze, she asked, "Do you have any in stock?"

"Yeah." Keeping his gaze on her, Mark tipped his head toward a storage closet. "The previous owner had just ordered in a bunch when I bought the place from him. They're hanging in there. But, Meredith, I can get you a new one in a week." Hell, he'd even let her lower the hem if she really wanted to. "There's no reason for you to keep a worn, already used uniform."

"Oh, I don't mind." She darted toward the closet.

Mark frowned. "Meredith ..."

She rummaged around a moment, continually peeking back at Mark, then turned with three neatly folded uniforms in her arms. "Urn, mind if I take these home to try on? I'll return any that don't fit tomorrow."

Mark gave up. "Yeah, sure, help yourself. Take as many as you want. The women all have at least two for a change."

The cook yelled out that the orders were ready, and Meredith rushed to put the uniforms with her purse on a top shelf. On her way past Mark, she paused to treat him to a fat, glowing smile. "Thanks again, Mark. This is just the best job ever."

Mark stood there until Meredith was out of sight, then scrubbed his hands over his face. The best job ever? Jesus. Working for Mary must have been worse than he'd imagined if Meredith thought being a waitress was a good job. But then, Mark would rather slave naked in a coal mine than lift a finger for his mother—a mother who wouldn't claim him.

The kitchen phone rang, and a moment later Horace shouted, "Mark, phone's for you!"

"Got it," Mark called back, and lifted the extension in the break room. "Hello?"

As if he'd summoned her, Mary Shepherd grumbled at his greeting, saying, "You should teach that awful man some manners. He shouted in my ear."

Mark didn't show his surprise, or point out Mary's own rudeness in not identifying herself. Not that she needed to. Mark knew that strident, heartless voice oh too well. "What do you want, Mary?"

She sniffed at his surly tone, and Mark felt the weight of an awful foreboding. "Mary?" he asked again, now with a dose of caution and mixed demand.

"I need your help."

Mark took her words like a punch in the lungs. It hurt, damn it, and knocked the wind right out of him. Wheez­ing, more than a little incredulous, Mark rasped, _"Excuse __me?"_

"You heard me, Mark Sloane, and I'm not saying it again."

Mark remained speechless, though Mary did not. "Be here tomorrow for lunch," she commanded. "Eleven will be perfect, so don't be late."

Mark drew one careful breath, then another. His brain felt blank, his muscles cramped, but he heard himself say with just the right amount of contempt, "Sorry, Matriarch, I have to work."

She gasped. "I've told you not to call me that."

"Yeah, I told you not to call me. Period."

Ignoring much of his rudeness, Mary said, "Surely you can take one afternoon off."

The numbness receded, went away. "No, I can't." Mark sounded more like himself, stronger, thank God. "I know it's tough for you to remember, Mary, but I'm in that lower class of people who have to work for a living. I can't afford an afternoon off."

As if speaking through her teeth, Mary said, "I'll pay you to show up."

Fury shot through him, making his heart race. "This'll come as a shock, Matriarch, but I can't be bought."

"Damn it, Mark, I need to see you!"

For the first time that Mark could remember, his ­mother sounded desperate. He didn't like her, had no re­spect for her, but damn it, he couldn't bear the faint hint of fear in her tone. He was used to her being an indomitable harridan, not a frail old woman.

Mark squeezed the receiver so hard, his hand hurt, but it made no difference. He wanted to refuse her, he really did. Instead, he gave up with a sigh of disgust. "I can make it next week, maybe Sunday."

Even through the ringing in his ears and her efforts to disguise it, Mark could hear Mary's relief. Her breath was shaky, broken. "Good. That'll be fine, then. Remember, eleven o'clock."

And she hung up.

_Well, hell, _was Mark's first thought, followed by loathing at his own weakness.

He couldn't imagine what Mary could have possibly meant by her statement. _I_ _need your help. _Mark shook his head, still muddled. Mary Shepherd needed no one, least of all a son she didn't claim.

With precise movements, Mark replaced the phone on the hook and turned away. He needed to call Derek, and he needed to get some paperwork done. He did not need to give his mother another thought. Whatever she wanted, it wouldn't matter in the long run. Nothing could change the past. Hell no. Never.

_Damn it._

Mary stared at the phone on her desk, aware that her hands were shaking despite how tightly she clasped them together. That had been harder than she'd anticipated. Mark was always so ... defensive. So difficult. Unlike Derek, she knew Mark would never meet her halfway. She jerked around and paced across the library. The room, the whole house, seemed lonely and empty and dark without Derek or Meredith around. She couldn't think in so much quiet. She couldn't sleep either.

It wasn't right.

But she had plans to fix everything. Derek was only being stubborn, and once she made him see reason, Meredith would return to work, too. Everything would be back to normal. She'd see to it. For lack of anything better to do, Mary reached for the ornate teapot arranged among delicate cups on a tray on her desk. It was empty.

Nan, her housekeeper, was off to the grocery store, so Mary would have to wait until she returned. She'd in­structed Nan to prepare a very special lunch for Mark, and that had required additional supplies. The lunch was delayed but not cancelled. Mark would show up at the end of next week. That'd be soon enough.

In order for her plans to work, Mary needed Mark's cooperation. She meant to give him a taste—literally—of what he could expect once he aligned himself with her, which included the very finest cuisine.

Mary turned and started back across the eerily silent library.

Or better yet, her thoughts continued, why not take ad­vantage of the propitious timing of this little crisis and play generous? She could at last acknowledge Mark as part of the family without denting her pride. Mark would under­stand that Derek's best interests motivated her, rather than any imagined weakness.

It wasn't as if she'd ever wanted to deny him, anyway. But Mark hadn't been an easy child. The Shepherds had adopted him when he was 5 years-old. Even at that young age, he hadn't regarded Mary as a mother. But, Mary wasn't the mothering sort. He'd always been difficult. Mark would have been an embarrassment, throwing their good name into the dirt with deliberate contempt and dis­respect every chance he had. Mary had been left with no recourse but to deny any relationship.

Derek hadn't done the same. He was so protective of Mark, they'd been raised together, Derek had always filled the bill of big brother. She and Derek couldn't discuss Mark without arguing, so they'd silently agreed not to.

Meredith was a different story. She was as welcoming of Mark as Derek was. The two of them often made her feel guilty, and she didn't like to waste her time on guilt.

She'd done the right thing, damn it. Then. Now, how­ever, it was time to alter the situation. Now Mark would be a benefit to her.

Mary was proud of her new plans and how she'd set them into motion, but there was little satisfaction without someone to share it. She was too old to be alone.

Soon, soon, she'd have it all set to rights. Soon she'd have her family, including sweet Meredith, back with her—where they all belonged.

* * *


	18. Chapter 18

**LADIES…. ****FINALLY THE RETURN OF THE HOT HOT SEX …..**

**ENJOY!!**

* * *

**Part 1.**

Though he knew he was almost an hour earlier than they'd agreed on, Derek leaned on the doorbell. He was ridiculously anxious to see Meredith .

He was also tight with growing arousal, but amazingly enough, it wasn't just sex he wanted. Oh, he wanted that, all right. Bad. Again and again. But he also wanted to talk with her, to hear her laugh and watch her fuss and find out how her job interview had gone.

He wanted to be with her.

It was a novel feeling, one he'd never experienced be­fore.

When Meredith had called him earlier to say she'd be home at six and he could come over at seven, she'd refused to say much about the job, other than that she'd gotten it. According to Meredith, she didn't want to jinx herself. She'd sounded happy—and her happiness had felt like the sun shining down on his miserable head.

He'd spent the day separating his finances completely from his mother's. He'd withdrawn his name, his power of attorney, his influence, from all her accounts and business dealings. She was on her own.

God, he needed Meredith.

Derek gave up on the doorbell and banged his fist on the door. He was normally a patient man, but since first touching Meredith, impatience had been riding him hard.

Two seconds later the door was jerked open. Meredith, bundled beneath a light blue, thick fleece robe far too warm for the weather, gave him a mutinous look. Her hair was in a ragtag ponytail and long, twisted strands had escaped. They hung around her ears, her temples, giving her an en­ticingly mussed look. She blew one long strand away from her eyes and glared at him.

His heart raced at the sight of her. "Hey."

Her rounded chin lifted. "You do seem to have a prob­lem with knocking politely, don't you?"

"Ringing your doorbell didn't work, so I figured a polite knock wouldn't either." Derek took in the way she clutched the top of the robe to her throat, how tightly it was belted. He couldn't wait a single second more and leaned in to kiss her full on her angrily pursed mouth. "Why the robe, Meri ? Were you in bed?"

Giving Meredith no choice but to move out of his way, Derek pushed his way in. Her apartment was as tidy now as it had been earlier. But unlike his place, hers was warm and welcoming, even cozy.

Derek was beginning to think any place would feel like home when Meredith was around.

She closed the door and made to move past him. "No, I wasn't napping. I was just. . . I'm changing from work."

"Meredith," Derek teased, eyeing her bare feet peeking from the bottom of the long robe, "are you naked under there?"

Using two fingers, he reached for her right lapel, mean­ing to take a quick peek. Meredith gave a horrified squeal and darted away, rushing down the hall.

What a reaction, Derek thought with amusement. He was suspicious about what she had to hide, and feeling challenged by her retreat.

Wearing a huge grin, he went after her "Meredith," he called to her retreating back while watch­ing her ponytail bounce, "you are naked, aren't you?"

"No!" she yelled back, and picked up her pace, obvi­ously intent on losing him. But her apartment was small, the hallway short, and his legs were far stronger than hers.

Meredith almost made it into the bedroom where Derek felt certain she would have slammed the door in his face, but he managed to get inside first. Meredith whirled around, flushed with guilt and something else.

Derek flattened his hand on the door and shoved it closed.

They stared at each other, Derek with anticipation, Meredith with nervousness.

When he slowly smiled, she colored.

Trying to sound reasonable, Meredith said, "Derek, if you'll just wait in the other room, I'll finish changing and be right out."

She looked as though she actually expected him to obey that polite command. Derek shook his head. "Sorry, Meri, I don't want to wait." He touched her chin, then idly looked around her bedroom. Her furniture was all painted white, including her four-poster bed. There was a plush white comforter on the bed with numerous velvet pillows in pale green and various shades of blue scattered about. The curtains over two smallish windows were the same soft shade of green.

As he'd always assumed, Meredith was a tidy woman with very little clutter anywhere. He did notice several fat can­dles, half burned down, sitting atop every surface, and fresh flowers on a nightstand. He turned back to Meredith. She was watching him, wait­ing and alert. "And I sure as hell don't want you to put clothes on."

Meredith sputtered, clutching that ragged robe for all she was worth. Her brows pulled down in a frown. "I'm afraid I have to insist."

Excitement unfurled in Derek's gut, as raw and fresh and real as any he'd ever experienced. He'd forgotten how fun it was to chase, to meet a challenge, especially a sexual challenge. Primal instincts rose, demanding he gently con­quer her.

Meredith watched him with her big green eyes unblinking. Her smooth cheeks went hot with some emotion, and the pulse in her throat fluttered wildly.

Deliberately keeping the inflection from his tone, Derek said, "We're in the bedroom, Meredith."

Those beautiful eyes of hers widened. Her lips parted. "But..."

With supreme satisfaction, Derek reminded her of their deal. "You can't insist in here, sweets. In here, in any bed­room, you do just what I want, remember?"

He reached out and brushed the knuckles of his left hand over her breast, and even through the layers of mate­rial he felt her nipple pull tight. Meredith shivered, but she didn't pull away. "Be a good little sex slave," he mur­mured, "and drop the robe."

Meredith stifled a soft moan. "I'm not. . . little."

Derek grinned. There wasn't much rebellion left in her tone and that fuelled him all the more. "Next to me, you're small and female, and Meredith "—he hardened his voice—"I want you to lose the robe so I can look at you."

Her hands tightened on the material until she was nearly strangling herself. "But I'm not naked underneath."

"No?" She didn't say anything else, so Derek teased, "What are you wearing, Meredith? More of that soft cotton underwear?"

Meredith cleared her throat. "If you really want to know ..."

"Oh, yeah. I insist on knowing."

"Well..." The color in her cheeks darkened. "It's a stu­pid uniform for work. I was trying some of them on, try­ing to find one that fits, but this one is definitely too tight."

Heat churned in his stomach, settled in his groin. He suddenly felt very full and very ready. "Let me see."

"You'll laugh," she whispered.

"No way, not a chance." Still she hesitated, and Derek made himself sound stern when he said, "Meredith, you agreed to the bargain—"

"Oh, all right!" she nearly yelled, and her face burned. Her movements were jerky, uncertain, as Meredith stripped the robe off her shoulders, balled it up and threw it at Derek. It hit his chest and dropped to his feet. Derek ig­nored it.

_Damn, she looked hot._

The uniform, if something so short and snug could be called a uniform, looked vaguely familiar, but Derek couldn't place where he'd seen it before. He was certain he'd never seen it look quite like that on any other woman. It was so tight, it squeezed Meredith's hips and ass and pulled across her thighs, her belly.

She hadn't been able to get it buttoned over her breasts. Three buttons shy of being decent, the bodice gapped open to frame a truly magnificent cleavage. It looked as if her breasts might pop free at any moment if she dared to breathe. Derek hoped they would "Walk around," he instructed, unable to take his gaze off her.

Meredith slapped her arms around herself and scowled sus­piciously. "Why?"

If she thought he might laugh, she was sadly mistaken. He was liable to drag her to the floor at any moment, but he sure as hell wouldn't be laughing. "I wanna see you move in that thing."

"Derek..."

He lifted his gaze, giving her a look, and Meredith started mumbling to herself. She took a tentative step to the side of him and Derek said, "Around the bed. Go to the win­dow and back."

"I feel incredibly stupid," she complained, still holding herself, still stiff.

"I feel ready to self-combust."

Whipping around, Meredith stared at his crotch. Her look was so startled, so hot, his cock twitched and stretched an­other half an inch. Meredith inhaled with surprise . . . delight. "Oh, my."

"That's not helping, Mer"

Watching over her shoulder for Derek's reaction, Meredith took two more steps. She was still a little uncertain, but her movements were more fluid.

"You have such a great ass."

Very slowly, her lips curled. Derek watched the confi­dence bloom inside her. "Thank you."

"Any time, babe. I only speak the truth." He couldn't stop staring. "Now walk toward me."

She did, even adding a little sway to her hips that made him want to smile, too.

"You can't wear this dress to work in." Derek's posses­sive nature rebelled at the idea of any other male seeing her like this. The material was drawn so tightly, he could visually trace the outline of her nipples, the cleft of her bottom, even the plump rise of her mound. The outfit didn't conceal so much as it enhanced and decorated.

Meredith started to laugh, but it was a breathless sound. "Of course not. I can't even inhale in this dress, much less work." She strolled closer, and then stopped in front of him.

"Trouble breathing, huh?" Derek drew one long finger­tip along the line of her cleavage, up, down, up again. "Does this help?"

In a very tiny, trembling voice, she whispered, "No."

"What about this?" He reached up with both hands and found her nipples through the stretched and clinging mate­rial. Using fingers and thumbs, he tugged.

"Derek ..." Meredith groaned, stumbling into him.

She wasn't wearing a bra, and Derek wondered if she had panties on. He'd find out for himself in a moment. He rolled her nipples gently, flicked with his thumbnails. "Shhh. Stay still, Meredith. Let me see just how well this dress fits."

"I'm trying."

He caught and held her nipples. "Is that better?" His own voice had gone husky with arousal.

Meredith closed her eyes and shook her head.

"Then let's try this."

Her eyes snapped open to watch him warily while he unbuttoned yet another button. The material parted, straining open over her breasts, and before he could release it the next button popped free. Derek could see the inside edges of her nipples. They were puckered tight and flushed darkly.

"Meredith ," he chided with mock seriousness, "you're ex­cited. Here I am trying to help you, and your nipples are stiff little points."

With the dress open, she breathed hard, her chest rising and falling. Derek worked the bodice open more to completely ex­pose her. Her breasts were held captive by stiff material, pushed together, lifted high. "Is that uncomfortable, Meredith ?"

"Not…not too much. At least now I can breathe a little."

Derek couldn't stop staring at her. She made him feel breathless, too. "You're beautiful."

She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Meredith ?" He caught her nipples again, and this time she could feel the rough texture of his fingertips. He played with her, tormenting her. "You _are _beautiful. I hope you know that."

She reached for him in a rush, but Derek stopped her. "No, I'm not done yet. Now Meredith, I know your skirt is tight, but I want you to open your thighs for me."

She looked down at the constricting material. "I can't."

"Then I can't touch you." He pinched her nipples just enough.

Meredith widened her stance, moving her feet apart while bracing herself with a firm hold on Derek's upper arms. "Is that enough?"

He smiled gently. "A little more."

Meredith hesitated, and Derek could see her thinking, try­ing to figure out how to obey. She wanted him to touch her, and that made him want to all the more.

Finally Meredith reached for the hem of the skirt and hiked it higher, giving herself more freedom. She boldly met Derek's gaze, braced herself again, and said brazenly, "There."

Derek could see a few feminine curls and his knees nearly buckled. As he'd suspected, Meredith wasn't wearing panties. And that fact pushed him over the edge.

He wedged one large hand between her thighs and stroked her. She was silky wet already, her soft flesh swollen and hot. Derek cursed even as he dragged her close and kissed her, taking her mouth hungrily while pushing his fingers into her, hard and deep.

Meredith was so responsive, fingering her was more excit­ing than having sex with other women. She moaned and moved against him and clutched at him, and far, far too soon, Derek knew she was nearing a climax.

"I want to taste your nipples," Derek growled in harsh demand. He hooked one arm around Meredith's waist to raise her.

Meredith arched her back, forcing her breasts high, and Derek caught one swollen pink nipple in his mouth. He sucked strongly.

Meredith cried out, writhing against his fingers, pumping her hips, grinding—and then she exploded, her hands tan­gled hard in his hair to keep him close.

Derek damn near came in his pants with her. "Yeah," he said against her breast, "hell yeah, Meredith."

He still had two fingers pressed deep inside her, feeling the last squeezing spasms of her orgasm, when she went limp against his chest. The arm Derek held her with trem­bled.

His legs trembled.

His heart quaked. _Damn._

As gently as possible, given his own heightened state, Derek lowered her feet back to the floor. In record time, he finished unbuttoning the uniform and tossed it aside. He cradled her head, loosening the band that kept her hair in the ponytail. He pulled it free and smoothed her hair.

Meredith gazed at him through heavy, sated eyes, swaying a little, smiling in satisfaction.

Derek watched her, turbulent in his lust, peaceful in the comfort of being with her. He sensed that he'd known her forever, yet he'd never really known her at all. Emotions too foreign and deep to contemplate were forced aside. He couldn't deal with them this soon. Maybe not ever.

Determined to keep things physical, Derek lifted Meredith into his arms, took two steps to the bed, and stretched out on top of the coverlet with her. When he started to move atop her, Meredith lifted a hand to stall him.

"Derek, are you forgetting something?"

Meredith reclining on a white comforter, wearing just that particular look, was as enticing as it got. He cupped her face as tenderness threatened to choke him. "What am I forgetting, babe?"

"My turn?" Her eyes were dark and smoky, filled with sensual suggestion. "You did promise, remember, before we got interrupted."

Lust surged, exploded. "Yeah," he croaked, "I remem­ber."

"Good." Meredith turned so that she was sprawled on top of him. She wiggled, causing her breasts to tease his chest, her belly to stroke his groin. "I've been thinking about this off and on all day, and I know just what I want to do."

"Tell me."

"Nope." Meredith shook her head, and her smile was equally sweet and wicked. "I'd rather show you."

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**TO BE CONTINUED…. **


	19. Chapter 19

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**Part 2.**

Meredith felt charged, filled with power. She could easily understand why Derek enjoyed taking the lead. It was so exciting.

She pushed to her elbows and smiled down into his face. His silky black hair was dishevelled, falling over his brow with rakish appeal. She smoothed it back, kissed his fore­head, then the bridge of his straight nose, his long, lush lashes. "You are so incredibly gorgeous," she murmured, meaning it with all her heart.

Derek smiled. "Flattery will get you everything."

"It's true, you know." She stared into the pure blue of his eyes and felt herself turning to mush. Derek had eyes that expressed so much, and right now they were filled with a stormy glitter. "You're beautiful."

His mouth twisted with wry amusement. "Yeah. If you say so."

"Derek." Meredith sat up next to him, uncaring of her own nudity with the prospect of his soon to come. Everything about Derek enthralled her—his innate strength of character, the incredible generosity in his heart, his protective na­ture.

But she also couldn't deny her appreciation of his phys­ical assets. His body was a study of solid, perfectly sculpted muscles, silky dark hair, long bones, and masculine angles.

And his face . . . Meredith sighed in wonder. Derek had the face of a dark angel, able to seduce with just a look.

Combined, his personality and his physique made him beautiful inside and out.

Derek gazed at Meredith's bare breasts with avid attention while she trailed her fingers over his wide chest, absorbing the wondrous feel of him through his pullover. "You don't sound like you believe me."

Derek shrugged. "I look like my father, Meredith, and I'm not altogether sure that's a good thing."

Her heart filled with pain. Derek had never been vocal about his father. He was private, and he had a core of family loyalty that had likely been forged from desperation, from a burning desire to _have _a family. But Meredith knew he was disappointed with Pierce Shepherd's lack of responsibility. Mary shared that disappointment as well, though she'd never admit.

Meredith caught the hem of Derek's shirt and began work­ing it up. "Pierce Shepherd was a very handsome man."

"I don't give a damn about that."

"Because of what he did to you?"

Derek raised his arms to assist her and gave a grunt of reply when she tossed the shirt to the side of the bed. "He didn't do anything, for me, to me, or about me."

"Derek ..."

"I don't want to talk about this right now, Meredith." Deliberately, he trailed his fingertips up her thigh, higher and higher, until he stroked her pubic hair. "I'd rather fuck you instead."

Meredith saw the stirring of desire in his eyes and the set expression on his face. Regardless of how Derek tried to hide it, she also saw his pain. His harsh, crude words were a cover, but she knew him too well to let them bother her.

She put her hands on his chest, spread her fingers wide, and explored the textures of iron-hard muscles, thick body hair, and warm skin. "Did I tell you," she whispered, "that I like it when you talk dirty?"

The pain left his eyes, replaced with burning need and a touch of amusement. "No. Do you, Mer?"

She nodded slowly. "I like everything you say to me, but especially the sex stuff." She glanced up at his face and away. With her fingertips, she found his nipples. "I like everything you do to me, too."

Tension seemed to pulse off Derek in waves. "Then you'll definitely like this." He reached for her, his intent plain, and Meredith caught his thick wrists.

"Ah, ah. It's my turn, Derek. You just mind your man­ners."

Derek laughed. "Remember, I don't have manners, especially not in bed."

True enough, Meredith thought. He'd already shown her that bed was no place to be polite. Derek gave and took what he wanted, and made her burn with release in the bargain. She could find no fault in that.

"How about," Meredith murmured, "if I promise to make it worth your while?"

Neither of them relented. Meredith still held Derek's wrists, and he still strained against her hold. "Yeah? And just how're you going to do that?"

"Well..." Her face heated; this was all very new to Meredith, and she still felt timid on occasion. But more than anything in the whole world, she wanted to give Derek some of the same pleasure he'd given her. So she pushed the timidity aside, forced her gaze to his face, and lifted her chin. "I'm going to touch you all over."

"My cock?" Derek's blue eyes were direct, alight with challenge, with suggestion. Meredith knew he was deliber­ately giving her the "dirty talk" she'd professed to enjoy.

"Especially ... there."

His expression froze, his cheekbones colored with ex­citement and his nostrils flared with his indrawn breath. He stared at her mouth as his eyes turned smoky.

"I'm going to kiss you, too," Meredith added, emboldened by his reaction. "And . . . and _lick _you."

His whole body jerked and his jaw locked hard. "Meredith ..." He said her name as a warning.

"Even . . . even your cock."

Derek groaned long and low, ending with a strangled laugh. "Damn, you're good at this."

Derek's praise filled her with delight. Sliding over him and off the side of the bed, Meredith held out her hand. "Come on, then. Stand up so I can get your pants off you."

"Lord have mercy." Derek pushed to his feet. He moved to stand between her and one of the tall posts at the foot of the bed. He smiled at her in anticipation.

Slowly, provocatively, Meredith dropped to her knees. Being in front of Derek, naked and kneeling and wanting to please him, was a turn-on. His erection pressed against the front of his slacks, making her smile, too. Her heart beat hard, her pulse raced.

She felt Derek's fingers in her hair, gently massaging her scalp as she untied his shoes and instructed him to step out of them. She set the shoes aside and removed his socks. Derek braced his bare feet apart.

Meredith looked up at him, saw the expectation in his ex­pression. In her submissive position, she felt more like a sex slave than ever. It freed her from her inhibitions and made her wild.

She leaned closer and went to work on his belt buckle, anxious to see him naked, to touch him and taste him and hear him moan. Her knuckles brushed against his crotch again and again, and she became aware of the slight trem­bling in his hands as he continued to hold her head.

When she slid his belt free of his pant loops, his hands tightened in her hair. Meredith paused, surveying Derek. He looked rigid and more than ready.

This was going to be so much fun.

Using one finger, Meredith traced his long, thick erection through his trousers. "I've never done this before, but I know what I want to do."

"Yeah."

Meredith hid a smile and wondered if Derek even knew what he was saying. His eyes were narrowed, his face flushed. His inky dark hair hung over his brow and his lips were parted.

With her own hands now shaking, Meredith undid the but­ton to his trousers. "If you don't like what I'm doing—"

"I'll like it."

Drawing out the anticipation, she slowly slid the zipper down until his slacks opened. He looked uncomfortably contained in the tight boxers, his penis long and hard and straining against the soft cotton material. Taking him by surprise, Meredith leaned forward and rubbed her cheek against him.

"Mmmm," she said with sensual realization, "you smell good." She hadn't realized that his scent would be so deli­cious, so hot.

"Damn." Derek pressed her head, holding her to him for a heart-stopping moment. "You little tease. You're killing me."

Meredith laughed softly at his growled, barely audible comment. "Turnabout is fair play."

Derek edged his thumbs under her jaw and tipped her face up to him. "I'll get even," he promised gruffly, and Meredith believed him. She shivered, already looking forward to his efforts.

Getting her mind back on the task at hand, Meredith tugged his pants down his long, strong legs. She removed his boxers at the same time. "Step out."

Derek kicked the clothes away. Meredith felt the stillness of him, the way he held his breath. She liked it that he was so excited, and she especially liked it that she was the cause.

Though they'd already made love and Derek had done incredible, awesome things to her, Meredith hadn't yet had a chance to explore him. Now it was her turn, and no way would she waste it. She smoothed her hands up his hard, hairy thighs, all the way to the lighter, smoother skin of his hipbones. Derek shifted.

"Be patient with me, Derek, okay? I've never seen . . . _this, _up close."

"This?" he croaked, and even above his arousal, she heard his amusement. Meredith ignored it, too intent on her study of his male parts to be distracted by his misplaced humor.

"You're hot." Tentatively, she cupped his hair-roughened testicles. They were heavy, firm, drawn tight. His skin here was very warm, and as she leaned close to inhale his scent again, his penis flexed, moved in reaction to her touch, her nearness. This part of Derek fascinated her. He looked enormous, so long and strong.

"It's amazing that we fit."

His hands continued to gently clench and unclench in her hair.

While still cradling him in her palm, Meredith leaned forward and brushed a kiss over his right hipbone. She liked that, so she did it again, this time taking a small, delicate lick to taste his hot flesh as well. He smelled good enough to eat, musky and male.

"Meredith ..." he groaned.

She glanced up and saw that his head was tipped back, his mouth slightly open. His strong, tanned throat worked and he moaned again.

Keeping her touch light and careful, she wrapped the fingers of her free hand around his shaft. Derek jerked, then muttered, "Harder."

"What?"

He swallowed, drew a shuddering breath. "I like it when you hold my balls so gently. That feels great. But here"—he put his hand over hers, his hold firm—"I want you to _squeeze._"

And he helped her, tightening his grip and breathing harder as he did so. "Oh, yeah, like that."

"It doesn't hurt?" Meredith stared at him in awe. He'd begun moving her hand, helping her to stroke him. Up, down, back up again until her fingers curved over the broad head of his penis, then pulled down to the base.

Derek released her and leaned back on the foot post, bracing himself. His eyes squeezed shut and his jaw tight­ened. "Ah, God, that feels good, Meredith." His hands curled into fists. "I love having you touch me."

Meredith stroked back down to the base of his shaft. He felt like warm velvet over solid steel, alive and powerful. A small drop of fluid appeared at the head of his penis. She stared, entranced.

Suddenly she couldn't wait. She leaned forward with a rush. "Will you love this, too?" she asked, and softly pressed her lips to him.

She started to draw back, but Derek caught her head and held her close, silently encouraging her. _"Yes."_

His excitement made her excited. Meredith kissed him again, this time with her mouth open so she could taste him, too. She licked, felt a shudder go through him, and licked again.

Derek's head dropped forward and he watched her with burning eyes and fiery intensity.

Feeling wanton and sexy, her gaze locked with his, Meredith held him still and licked up the entire length of his erection until her tongue slid up and over the head. She tasted the salty fluid at the same time Derek let out a raw growl of pleasure. His whole body shuddered.

_**"Meredith ?"**_

He sounded strained, almost in pain. Loving his reac­tion and her own sense of feminine power, Meredith licked the head again and again, down to the base, back up. Her tongue swirled, teased. Then she'd start all over.

Derek shifted and groaned and he raised his arms, lock­ing his hands behind his head. His broad shoulders pressed hard to the post, his legs stiffened, his abdomen pulled tight until every muscle was delineated.

His breath rushed in and out in broken pants and moans. Meredith, sensing the time was right, closed her mouth over him and drew him in. He was large enough, and she was inexperienced enough, that it wasn't easy. She stretched her jaws wider, determined, hungry for him.

Suddenly Derek's long fingers moulded around her head and he guided her, urging her to take him deeper, longer.

"Meredith ... _suck," _he rasped, and she did. Her own body was on fire. She curled her hands around his taut, narrow hips and held on as he began to rock into her, holding her steady, taking her mouth as he'd already taken her body.

"God," he moaned, and he stiffened, stilled. "Meredith . . . that's it." He started to push her away. "I can't take it."

Meredith held on, moving her tongue, drawing on him.

"Meredith ..." he warned on a growl so low and rough she could barely hear him.

She sank her nails into his firm backside, warning him that she wanted it all, she wanted to drive him over the edge.

And Derek let go. He came with a long broken moan, his hips jerking, his body burning hot and shivering, every muscle finely drawn. After long moments he slumped, his knees giving way so that the bedpost supported most of his weight. Slowly, he pulled back from Meredith .

With shaking hands he smoothed her hair and then carefully, tenderly, tilted her face up to him.

Meredith loved him so much, keeping the words inside was nearly impossible. She managed, but something must have shown in her face.

Derek stared down at her for a long time while he strug­gled to catch his breath. His eyes were the darkest mid­night, filled with turbulent emotion. Finally he sank down to sit in front of Meredith, then pulled her close, rocking her into his naked body, his face pressed to her throat.

"Amazing Meredith," he whispered, and a second later she felt his smile.

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	20. Chapter 20

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Derek woke with a dash of realization. Meredith's bed­room was now dark, her sheets heated from their bodies. Meredith was curled close to his side like a small cat and it felt right, even comfortable, to have her there. She had one leg over his lap, one arm over his chest, with her palm resting on his nipple. 

Wide awake now, Derek turned his head to look at Meredith in the shadows, and he heard her mumble some­thing in her sleep. She stirred, snuggling tighter to his side, and her hand curled, inadvertently stroking him.

Damn.

He silently commanded his cock to behave, but it was an impossible order around Meredith. She grouched at him and he wanted her. She smiled at him and his blood heated. She got to her knees in front of him and he caught on fire. He hadn't been this goddamned randy since his teenage years, when the only respite from life was wild, mind-numbing sex.

Well, Meredith was here by her own volition, a decision she'd made without coercion. And better still, she enjoyed his excesses, and matched them with her own. He might as well take advantage of it.

But first he had a few questions for her.

Derek woke her by stroking her behind. Meredith wriggled, moaned softly, shifted her leg over his crotch.

Damn.

"Mer?" He kissed her forehead, her nose. Her fabulous hair trailed over them both in a wild tangle. "Wake up, Meredith."

She moved again, then stilled with awareness. "Derek?" Her head lifted. "What's wrong?"

"Not a damn thing." He stroked her tush again, then gave it a squeeze. "Except that I want to know why you had that uniform on."

"What uniform?" she asked around a wide yawn. "What time is it?"

"The uniform you had on when I arrived, and I have no idea what time it is. What does it matter?"

Meredith appeared to be pondering that, then he felt her shoulder shrug into his side. "It doesn't. I don't have to be at work till late afternoon tomorrow. I can sleep in." She shifted around until she was half atop his chest. She toyed with his chest hair, then asked in a husky, hopeful voice, "Did you want me again?"

Derek tried and failed to hide his smile. God, after she'd used her sweet mouth on him, he should have been dead to the world, down for the count with the way his body had exploded. Instead, he'd been insatiable.

Each time he loved Meredith made him want her that much more. Where she was concerned, his body showed no moderation, and his stamina seemed inexhaustible.

"You like this slave business, don't you?"

She rubbed her breasts against his chest, nipped his chin, and purred, "Yes."

"Meredith," he admonished, catching her bottom in his hands and holding her still before she swayed him from his purpose. "I want to talk."

"Oh." Her tone was filled with disappointment. "We could talk later."

"We'll talk now."

She sighed long and drawn out. "Okay. About what?"

Derek laughed. "You haven't been paying attention, Meredith."

"Well," she teased, now nibbling on his bottom lip, "I've got this big, gorgeous, buck-naked hunk in my bed. If that's not enough to stop a woman's heart and scatter her wits, I don't know what is." And then, more seriously, "I never, ever thought anything like this would happen to me, Derek. I can hardly believe it. I want to relish every moment."

"Meredith." Damn, she twisted his guts and tore at his heart. "I bet you've left a string of broken hearts behind."

She laughed. "Don't be ridiculous. Men never notice me."

"You, sweetheart, are just oblivious. I've sneaked plenty of looks at you over the years."

"Uh-huh." Disbelief dripped from her tone. "Sure you did."

"It's true," Derek insisted. Something about Meredith had always drawn him. He'd told himself it was her quirky na­ture, her vibrating energy, and her staunch loyalty to her employer. He'd convinced himself it was respect and admi­ration.

He'd been so damn blind. "I was just subtle about it."

Meredith tucked her head under his chin, rested her cheek on his sternum. In a small voice, she said, "Because you were in love with Addison."

"No." Derek traced her spine, loving the sleek feel of her skin, the upward curve of her bottom.

"Because I was engaged to her. I never loved her, not the way I should have loved a woman I was going to marry. I know that now."

"But you're worried about her."

Derek shrugged, admitting the truth of that. "I'm fond of Addison. She's a nice person, and in a lot of ways she's still like a child. I don't want to see her hurt. But I'm not in love with her and I never was."

Meredith nodded in understanding and again leaned up to look at him. Derek could see the deep glitter of her eyes, the pale glow of her shoulders and breasts. "You're her friend, and you're afraid that whoever she's involved with will hurt her."

Derek stilled. "What are you talking about?"

She touched her nose to his. "I'm not an idiot, Derek. I know that Addison is involved with someone else. That's why you broke the engagement. I'm assuming it's someone at the Foundation, which is why she wants to hang out there."

Derek shook his head in wonder. "That quick mind of yours never rests, does it?" He was amazed at her obser­vation, at her sensitivity to others.

Meredith resettled herself, trying to get comfortable. She squirmed in a way that quickly made Derek hard.

"It's ob­vious to anyone who knows you. It had to be something really personal, something insurmountable to cause you to call off the wedding. I'd say having a lover on the side would qualify."

Derek hadn't intended to discuss the situation with any­one other than his brother, and that had only been to let off steam. He'd known exactly how Mark would react, curs­ing them all and offering Derek his support in whatever way he needed.

He hadn't discussed it with anyone else because he felt a lingering sense of protectiveness toward Addison. He didn't want to see her reputation ruined, didn't want to hear oth­ers condemn her.

But Meredith wasn't accusing. The night was dark, the room quiet except for their hushed conversation.

And Meredith was a warm, gentle weight atop his heart.

Derek realized he wanted more than the blind support his brother so freely gave. He wanted understanding; he wanted vindication. He wanted to talk out his thoughts with someone unbi­ased. "I wasn't hurt when I found them."

Meredith hugged herself closer to him. She was silent for a long time, then asked, "You found them . . .together?"

"Yeah."

"Must have been something of a shock."

He shrugged. "You'd think so, wouldn't you? I thought I had my life all figured out, thought I knew what I was doing. But damn ..." Derek shook his head. "I walked in on them naked in the bed, literally _in the act. _And that's when I realized I didn't love her, because my biggest con­cern was how everyone else would take the break-up. For the longest time my mother planned on us marrying. She loves Addison."

"She loves you, too."

Derek laughed at that. "Yeah, so much so, she disowned me."

Meredith stiffened, then pushed herself up and spoke not two inches from his face. "Oh, Derek, don't think that way. You know Mary reacts with her pride first and later regrets it."

"It's all right, Meredith," he told her gently, feeling like a fool. How did Meredith keep getting him to act so melodra­matic? It was totally unlike him and left him feeling fool­ish. "I'm a grown man, not a little boy." _Not anymore._

"But. . . Derek, I'm willing to bet that even now Mary is trying to figure out how to get you back without losing face."

"You think so, do you?"

Meredith nodded. "Everything is a strategy to Mary. She thinks in terms of maintaining control. That's important to her."

Meredith was very astute when it came to his mother. "All she has to do is ask me." Derek gave a wry smile. "Hell, I love the old witch."

In her gruff, strict manner, Mary had taught Derek business sense and the finer nuances to success. She'd shown him how to fit in with society, how to adjust. For all that, he owed her. What Mary hadn't given him was pride and self-worth, because Derek had always had that, even when he'd had nothing else.

What he wanted most from Mary—unconditional trust and love and loyalty—she hadn't given him.

Meredith replied, as if she'd read his thoughts. "Mary loves you, too, Derek, and she's proud of you. I think she'd like to take credit for all your successes, but she knows the truth, just as I do. You're the most capable man I've ever known. I would never doubt your ability to get ahead, with or without Mary's influence."

Derek hugged Meredith tight. He didn't have to guess at her motives, or her sincerity, because she spoke her mind. She was the type of woman who would open her heart completely to a man she loved.

_She'd already opened herself to him._

That fact had become a burning awareness in Derek's conscience, sharper with each minute he spent near her. It disturbed him on many levels—especially since he found the idea so intriguing.

Derek changed the subject, saying, "I just realized, you haven't asked me who Addison is sleeping with."

"It's none of my business." Meredith licked his throat, bit him-gently. "But I'll admit, I'm glad she's not sleeping with you."

"Meredith." Derek turned, pinning her beneath him. She was a soft cushion, inciting him, stirring him on so many levels. Without him asking, she opened her arms—and her thighs—to hold him close. "I want you to promise me something."

She didn't hesitate. "Anything."

Grim, hating himself but unable to keep the demand in­side, Derek said, "Swear to me that for as long as we're in­volved, you won't let another man touch you."

It amazed Derek, but the idea of Meredith lying down with someone else filled him with a killing rage. Seeing Addison naked and moaning with her lover hadn't really touched him, but if Meredith did the same . . .

Her gentle smile was barely discernible in the quiet night. He expected her quick agreement, but she took him by surprise. "Derek, no other man wants me."

"Bullshit." How could she be so oblivious to her sex ap­peal? Her lack of confidence annoyed him. "Promise me, Meredith."

She put her arms around his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers. "There's no need," she said, making him stiffen, and then she added, "But if that's what you want, then sure, I swear."

Derek kissed her hard, thrusting his tongue deep, biting her bottom lip. He was angry at himself, confused, but Meredith gentled him just by stroking his hair, his shoulders.

She made him feel both strong and weak with her com­plete giving.

By small degrees, Derek ended the kiss. He wanted Meredith, wanted to lose himself in the warm, wet clasp of her body, in the sweet friction. But he was determined to get some of the talking done first.

"Why were you wearing that uniform, Meredith?"

"Mark insists," she murmured, trying to catch his mouth again.

His suspicions confirmed, Derek jerked upright to sit in the bed. He glared at the small lump her shadowed form made in the bedclothes. "Goddamn it, Meredith, I knew that dress looked familiar. Don't tell me this new job of yours is working for Mark."

The room was silent.

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	21. Chapter 21

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_His suspicions confirmed, Derek jerked upright to sit in __the bed. He glared at the small lump her shadowed form __made in the bedclothes. "Goddamn it, Meredith, I knew that __dress looked familiar. Don't tell me this new job of yours is __working for Mark."_

_The room was silent._

"Well?" he demanded.

The bed shook with Meredith's philosophical shrug. "Do you want me to tell you or not?"

"Fuck. You are, aren't you?"

Slowly, Meredith sat up. "Derek Shepherd, using that word for sex, during sex, is _not _the same as cursing at me!"

Anger roiled inside him, spurred on by worry, by possessiveness. He could just imagine Meredith bopping around Mark's bar in that getup, making every guy in attendance hot. It was intolerable.

He gripped her shoulders and bore her back down on the bed. He loomed over her, his nose touching her own, his breath on her mouth.

Punctuating his words with a small shake, Derek said, "I don't want you working there, Meredith."

She huffed, and though he could barely see her, he knew she was glaring. "I never asked you."

An undeniable truth, and one he didn't like at all. "It's dangerous."

"I'm a _big _girl and I'm a adult."

Her words pushed Derek right over the edge. He growled and shook her again. "Damn it, Meredith. You're gonna make too many cracks and I swear to God, I'm going to put you over my knee."

Her eyes widened, looking opalescent in the darkness. Breathless, she asked, "Really?" and damned if she didn't sound intrigued.

Derek burned, but he wasn't about to be sidetracked by sex. Not this time. "I can promise you won't like it."

In a huff, Meredith flattened her hands hard against his chest and shoved. "Then forget it."

Derek refused to budge. "I wasn't asking your permis­sion."

"And I wasn't asking for yours. We agreed to obedience in the bedroom, Derek, not in my entire life. Where I work is none of your business."

And that was what really pissed him off. He wanted everything that concerned Meredith to be his business. He wanted to know that she was safe and happy and that she was . . . his.

_Shit. _Derek shoved himself away from her. Confusion churned inside him, making his head pound, his heart race. He'd just ended a long-term, complicated engage­ment, just ruined a close family relationship. His life, his future, was all up in the air.

Oh, he had no doubt he'd do fine; as Meredith had pointed out, he knew how to take care of himself. But he had to get his life settled, had to put out the other fires before starting a new blaze. The last thing Derek wanted or needed was another entanglement in his life, and Meredith was most definitely entangling him. She'd al­ready turned him inside out.

Sex with Meredith had seemed like such a great idea, a way to relieve his tension and stay unattached. In his usual fashion, he had made his decision to become involved with her. But he'd veered from his original plan in a big way, which was something he never did.

Now he wanted more than just the bone-melting sex, when he knew more was the worst thing. "I'm sorry."

Meredith let out a long sigh. "I had no idea you'd react like this."

How could she have known? _He _hadn't known. He'd been engaged to Addison for years and had never been so con­trolling.

"Forget it." But then, because the worry was still there, despite everything he'd just told himself, Derek twisted to face her. "Meredith, it really isn't the best place to work."

"Mark told me you wouldn't like it, but I promised him you wouldn't care."

He'd strangle Mark. "My brother can be astute on occa­sion, but this time his judgment was off. He should never have hired you."

Meredith dropped back on the bed. "Here we go again."

"Don't be sarcastic, Meredith. Mark runs a tight business, and I'm damn proud of him. But he caters to a lot of rough customers. It's not too bad during the week, but on the weekends, especially in the evening, it can get rowdy, even dangerous."

"He told me no one had ever been seriously hurt."

He supposed Mark didn't count his own stitches, bruises, and cuts as serious. Derek would have a long, serious talk with his little brother very soon. "It's only a matter of time. That's no place for a woman."

"He has other women working for him."

Meredith's arguments were grating. Through his teeth, Derek said, "They're not you, Meredith."

"And just what does that mean?"

She sounded so insulted, Derek shook his head. "You've never lived in that type of environment. You're not street smart. I've met Mark's other waitresses. They know the score."

"And you're saying I don't?"

Hoping to sooth her growing temper, Derek stroked her thigh through the blankets. "I'm saying you're sweet and naive."

"I am not."

"You just told me men don't notice you. If that's not naive, then what is?"

"It's the truth, Derek. Men don't look at women who are..."

She hesitated, and he grinned evilly. "Remember my warning, babe. My palm is itching."

He released her thigh and found her hip. He squeezed suggestively.

Meredith scoffed at him. "You'd never hit me in anger, Derek, and we both know it."

She was right, damn it. Her faith in him was humbling.

Derek decided he'd just have to find another way to dis­suade her. The answer came to him in a flash. "I wanted you to go to Los Angeles with me."

"Los Angeles?" Meredith shoved up on her elbows. Moonlight fell softly over her breasts, making a pretty picture. "What's in LA?"

Distracted, Derek said, "Rental property I bought. I al­ready owned one condo complex there, but another has gone up for sale next door."

"You own a condo in Los Angeles?"

Derek wondered if she had any real idea of his monetary worth. Mary had shown him the value of owning land and property, and he'd quickly begun acquiring his own. But even Mary hadn't been informed of all his purchases. For some time now, Derek had felt the need to guarantee himself financial security.

"My building has four posh condos in it, right on the beach. The one I'm thinking of buying has six units. They're smaller than what I own now, but the realtor says he has no problem keeping them rented. It'd be ideal to have them both, because then I could offer a wider range of rental fees."

Meredith gaped at him. "Two buildings on the beach?"

Derek didn't tell her that he had property in a few other vacation areas as well. "Do you like the ocean, Meredith?"

"I don't know. I've never been to the beach."

"No?" He stared at the curves of her breasts and pictured her in the bright sun­shine, splashing along the shore, her smile as sweet and charming as ever. "You'd look great in a bikini, Meredith."

She snorted, and though it was too dark to discern, Derek was sure she blushed. "Dream on."

Laughing, Derek decided he'd get her into a swimsuit sometime very soon. "I get down there about eight times a year, whenever I have to head that way on other business for Mary. I like to keep up on things. I was hoping to fly down this weekend to check out the new property before I buy it." Hoping to tempt her into agreeing, he added, "I have one of the condos reserved from Friday to Monday, so I can find out firsthand how comfortable it is, and make sure everything is in working order."

Derek slipped his hand beneath the blankets and rested his palm on Meredith's soft belly. The muscles tightened under his hand as she sucked in her breath. "You wanna keep me company?"

Meredith fidgeted. "Our agreement was for sex and only sex. I don't want to ..."

"Screw the agreement."

She looked uncertain.

Anger flared. Derek knew he was being perverse, be­cause after all, _he _was the one who had stressed the terms of their involvement. But every time Meredith hesitated, or pulled back, he wanted to draw her closer.

"Meredith, there are bedrooms everywhere." He sounded reasonable, convincing. "Think of this as an adventure, as just another place to indulge our carnal games."

Still she held silent, and Derek added softly, by way of an incentive, "We could rent a boat and make love out on the ocean with the hot sun on our backs."

Just that easily, she nodded. "Okay, I'd love to."

Derek grinned.

"But I might have to work."

She sounded disappointed at that possibility, and Derek decided to have a talk with Mark. He'd make sure his brother didn't schedule Meredith on the busy, rowdier week­ends. And Meredith would never have to know he'd inter­fered. He instinctively knew she'd rebel against the idea of favouritism.

"Let me know as soon as you find out your schedule, okay?"

"Yes." She shifted slightly beneath his palm. Meredith got hot so quickly, it sometimes astounded him.

Derek drifted his fingers lower, until he was just touch­ing her pubic hair. Teasing, tempting. "Meredith?"

"Mmm?"

He smiled at her breathless anticipation. "You're not going to wear that dress to work in, are you?"

"No, of course not." And then, forgetting his warning, she said, "Those uniforms were not made for me. It was too tight. I have a ordinary body. Hopefully Mark will be able to—_Derek!"_

In a flash, Derek had Meredith up and over his thighs, her round behind available for a sound swat. She squealed and squirmed, making Derek hesitate. Then he thought, what the hell, and brought his palm down with just enough force to make her yelp.

"Derek!" She tried to sound outraged, but he could hear the laughter in her tone, could feel her jiggling as she snickered.

Derek smiled with lecherous intent. "I told you, babe, I don't like it when you keep putting yourself down."

"I wasn't!"

"You're not ordinary. You look gorgeous, every single inch of you. All right?"

Meredith struggled for balance in her awkward position. She flattened one hand on the floor and curled the fingers of her other hand into Derek's thigh. Twisting her face around to peer at him in the darkness, she said, "Be rea­sonable, Derek, anyone can see that I'm .. . _hey!"_

He swatted her again, a little harder this time. His palm tingled, and he had to hold Meredith still when she tried to wiggle off his lap. He hampered her movements by flatten­ing one hand on the small of her back and wrapping the other around the inside of her thigh. His fingertips touched her hot vulva. He stroked seductively—and Meredith choked on a laugh.

"I'm ready to dole out more, babe. Be careful what you say."

"Okay, okay!" Meredith sucked in air between her giggles. "This is a terribly ignominious position, Derek."

"I like it."

"You would."

Derek could feel her long silky hair hanging down to the floor, brushing against his hip, teasing him every time she moved.

He smoothed his hand over her back to the warm spot where he'd smacked her. He wished he'd had enough sense to turn the lights on so he could see her clearly. "I want to be positive sure that you understand me, Meredith . Now say, _I have a great body."_

At his demand, Meredith started giggling again and couldn't stop. Derek squeezed one firm buttock. "Meredith," he warned.

Still snickering, she said, "Okay, okay."

"Say it."

She drew in a breath. "I... I have a _sore _body."

Derek smacked her, then kept her still as she screeched with a mixture of stinging discomfort and hilarity. She al­most got away from him, but he hauled her back up.

"Derek!"

"I have all night, Meredith." He wedged his hand between her thighs and cupped her mound fully. "And you know, I think I'm enjoying this."

"I _know _you're enjoying it!" She peeked around at him again. "I can feel your erection on my belly."

Derek grinned. "Ah, but Meredith"—his fingers pressed into her—"I've had that since I woke up and found you curled naked next to me."

"Oh."

She was already wet, hot. "Say it, Meredith."

She went still and quiet, absorbing his touch. Without the humor, she asked, "You really do think I'm sexy?"

Derek turned her and cradled her in his arms. He kissed her softly on her lips, smoothed away her long hair. "Mer, you're so fucking sexy, I can barely control my­self around you."

Meredith trembled. In the next heartbeat, she shoved him flat on the bed and moved over him, kissing him wildly, stroking him everywhere, using that incredible mouth of hers again to drive him insane. Derek forgot about every­thing but the intense pleasure she gave him.

Minutes later, when Meredith straddled his hips and gently, insistently sank onto his cock, she dutifully whispered, "I have a great body," and Derek moaned his agreement.

* * *

**More this weekend... or tonight... but definitely, more this week end...**

**and again, thanks for all the comments ladies...**


	22. Chapter 22

* * *

When Derek awoke again, the sun shone bright through the pulled drapes, telling him it was late in the morning. He turned to his side and found the bed empty, only the soft impression of Meredith left behind. 

He reached over and smoothed his hand across her pillow. He was disappointed but not worried. It was the combined fragrances of coffee and bacon drifting into the room that had awakened him.

Meredith was cooking him breakfast.

Filled with satisfaction, with peace, Derek stretched and smiled. Amazingly enough, his body was sore. He could only imagine how Meredith felt this morning. She surely had a few . . . _intimate _aches and pains.

He remembered holding her legs high over his shoul­ders, making her vulnerable to his thrusts and driving into her so deep, he'd felt a part of her. He also remembered the gentle way she'd touched him, and the not-so-gentle way she'd come.

They'd been excessive through the long night.

Derek scratched his belly and looked at the nightstand, where several empty silver packets lay. He groaned, scrub­bing a hand over his face, then finally laughed. Jesus, he'd brought half a dozen condoms with him last night—and they'd used every damn one. He'd always been a very sex­ual man, but he'd never been obsessed before. Around Meredith, he couldn't get enough. Six times. He was equally appalled and amused.

Meredith, it seemed, was a sexual dynamo. Who'd have ever thought?

Derek made a mental note to pick up a box of rubbers to leave at her apartment. He grinned, thinking of her reac­tion to that, knowing Meredith would get a kick out of stor­ing them in her bedside drawer. She had led such a sedate life, keeping all her pent-up lust quietly contained, that the smallest things made her feel naughty. And when Meredith felt naughty, she was adorably accommodating.

Her bed was comfortable, Derek decided as he sat up and swung his legs to the floor. Even better, it smelled of Meredith. The pillows, the sheets, all carried her unique, de­lectable scent.

Being surrounded by Meredith's fragrance probably had as much to do with the sound, peaceful way he'd slept as it did with the overindulgence of tension-draining sex.

It was just as Derek found his boxers and pulled them on that he heard Meredith arguing with someone. She sounded . . . upset, a little angry.

Protective, possessive instincts rose in a scalding wave. Without thinking about it, Derek stormed across the room, jerked the door open, and stalked into the living room. He promptly stalled.

Meredith said, "Derek!" at the same time his mother gasped.

Derek was a little old to be blushing, but damn it, he was naked except for his underwear.

Mary hadn't yet been seated, so Derek assumed she'd only just arrived. She was fashionably attired in a blue print suit with matching pumps, looking as pulled together, as business oriented, as ever. At the moment, she had one foot tapping impatiently.

Meredith wore a long nightshirt, and her silky hair had been pulled back into a haphazard ponytail. She stood next to the sofa, where the ruined uniform lay in a rum­pled heap next to a sewing kit. It appeared as though Meredith had been reattaching buttons before Mary's ill-timed arrival.

Meredith fretted. Mary scowled.

Derek decided there was nothing left to do but brazen it out, so he crossed his arms over his naked chest and sum­moned a firm tone. "Just what the hell is going on here?"

Mary Shepherd was not a fainthearted woman. It would take more than Meredith's stammering discomfort or her son's surly tone to budge her from the spot. She mimicked Derek's aggressive pose and glared.

"I happen to be visiting Meredith. Of course, I don't need to ask what _you're _doing here." She flicked her gaze over his sleep-rumpled hair, morning beard shadow, and naked chest, then shook her head in disapproval. It was quite ob­vious that Derek had just crawled out of Meredith's bed. "My God, you've lost all pretense to polite decorum."

Once again, Meredith rushed up and stationed herself pro­tectively in front of Derek, making Mary sigh. The girl was embarrassingly smitten and not even trying to hide it.

This was worse than she'd first assumed. Derek and Meredith hadn't indulged in one indiscretion. They hadn't gotten carried away a single time, as she'd hoped.

No, they were quite clearly involved.

They also showed no signs of self-consciousness over the situation. Mary wondered if either of them even tried to keep the affair private. Gossip would no doubt run rampant. The good Shepherd name was bound to take a beating.

If she didn't do something, and fast, Meredith would end up irreparably hurt by it all, once Derek came to his senses and returned to Addison. When that happened, as it surely would, Mary could hardly expect Meredith to return to work and face Derek on a daily basis. And she definitely wanted Meredith to return. With each passing hour, Mary realized just how much she depended on Meredith , and how much she missed her daily involvement.

Meredith was a godsend, organized and precise and tactful. She didn't require constant supervision to handle things. She'd learned early on which appointments were impor­tant to Mary and which invites should be politely turned down. The daily juggling of unexpected crisis, the numer­ous requests for her time or her input were now left up to Mary, and she already didn't like it.

Since Meredith had left, Mary felt more abandoned than ever, and things were piling up around her. She'd lost her son and her right hand in the same week. Intoler­able.

"Meredith," Mary said, never taking her gaze from Derek, "why don't you go get a shower and make yourself decent? Derek and I can entertain ourselves a moment."

Derek's hands settled on Meredith's shoulders. "Meredith is about the most decent woman I know."

Mary narrowed her eyes at him. "This is difficult enough as it is. There's no reason to deliberately miscon­strue my words."

Meredith looked very undecided until Derek turned her around and started into the bedroom. To Mary, he said, "I'll be right back."

It was the sight of Derek leading Meredith away that gave Mary a new idea. Perhaps she'd been looking at this all wrong. There was more than one possible way toget everything she wanted, for herself and for her son.

Mary smiled in thought, her mind whirling with po­tential outcomes. As Derek gently tugged Meredith into the bedroom, Mary decided that it just might work. Every­thing was already in place.

All Derek needed was a nudge.

Derek shushed Meredith when she started to protest the way he'd dragged her off. "I can handle my mother, Meredith. You don't need to keep running interference."

Meredith stalked behind him as he went to the chair by her bed and picked up his slacks. She watched him dress with grave misgivings. Despite what he said, she was afraid Mary planned to inflict a few more well-meaning barbs. "Derek..."

"It'll be fine." He shrugged on his shirt. "Why'd you leave me this morning?"

Given the fact that his mother waited in the other room, Meredith was amazed by Derek's change of subject. "I didn't. I was just cooking breakfast." She'd had plans to enjoy a peaceful morning meal with Derek—and then Mary had shown up.

He sniffed the air and smiled. "Yeah, it smells great."

"The bacon is done. I was going to fix the eggs and toast after you woke." She fretted again. "I suppose I could put more bacon on for Mary ..."

"No need. She won't be here that long." He sat on the side of the bed and reached for his socks. "Then we will eat and we will play again…."

Heat suffused her cheeks. She couldn't help but grin. She loved playing sex games with Derek, just as she loved his compliments. After last night, she had no doubt that he found every single inch of her desirable. "Okay."

"Good." Now fully dressed, Derek stood and pulled her close. "Meredith, you're not repairing that uniform so you can wear it, are you? It looks good on you—too good— but no way in hell is it appropriate for work."

Meredith laughed. She could hardly credit that Derek was concerned about such a thing. "Of course I won't wear it." Her voice lowered, and she muttered, "But I didn't want Mark to see the buttons missing."

Derek tilted her back in the circle of his arms so he could nuzzle her throat. "Want me to tell him how it hap­pened?"

Meredith swatted at him. "Don't you dare. Mark teases enough as it is."

Meredith shook her head at him. "If you leave your mother waiting much longer, she'll wonder what we're doing in here."

"Yeah, but a few lascivious thoughts might make her less rigid."

Laughing, Meredith turned Derek and gave him a small shove. "Go. I'll be out in ten minutes."

"Take your time, Meredith. I'll send my mother on her way so when you finish getting dressed, we can eat. I'll even cook the eggs."

Meredith sighed as Derek went through the door and closed it softly behind him. She knew Mary well enough to re­alize she wouldn't be budged a single inch until she was good and ready to move. And she was here for a reason, of that Meredith was certain.

The moment she'd arrived, she'd informed Meredith that she had a sound plan to get Derek and Addison reunited. Though the idea had felt like a fist around her heart, Meredith hadn't tried to dissuade. It wasn't until Mary declared Derek to be bull headed and selfish that Meredith had dis­agreed—most vehemently.

Before Meredith could get too wound up, Derek had walked in and the hostilities had really started.

She hated the new tension that invaded the air whenever the two of them were in the same room together.

Meredith decided it might be propitious to hurry through her shower. Left to their own tempers, Mary and Derek would probably do more harm than good.

* * *

**More.. soon... I am writing another update ... so...yep, update soonish...**

**And as always, thanks so much for your reviews ... they mean the world to me **


	23. Chapter 23

"So Mary, what are you doing here?" 

Mary set her purse aside and smiled. "As I said, I came to visit Meredith. I like her."

"Huh. That's why you fired her? Because you like her so much."

"You're the one to blame for that, Derek."

"How'd you figure that?"

Mary strolled over to a bookcase and surveyed Meredith's eclectic collection of books. She pulled out one on baby names. Derek tried not to stare.

_Baby names?_

Lifting a brow as if to emphasize her point, Mary added, "You put me in a no-win situation. Meredith is a friend as well as my personal secretary, but Addison is your fiancée."

"Ex-fiancée. I wish you'd try to remember that."

Mary gave one condescending nod. "Be that as it may, Addison is still a close friend, and her parents are like family. I had to do something or risk alienating Meredith and Addison both. With your actions, you forced me to fire Meredith. It was the only solution."

Derek didn't want to accept that he might very well be to blame for Meredith's current circumstances. And he was still distracted by that damn book, though he thought he hid it well. "I need a cup of coffee. You want to join me?"

"Thank you." Mary strode forward. "I recall that Meredith makes excellent coffee."

Derek ground his teeth together. As Mary's secretary, Meredith shouldn't have been assigned the duty of coffee making. Mary had a housekeeper to take care of that chore.

He found two mugs in the cabinet over Meredith's sink and set them out. Knowing Mary favored both sugar and cream, he did some more rummaging around the pristine kitchen until everything was on the table.

The more he saw of Meredith's apartment, the more he liked it. Her kitchen was small but brightly decorated with yellow-patterned wallpaper and sky blue rag rugs. Her canisters were shaped like smiling cows and her salt and pepper shakers were small pink pigs, one sporting a top hat, the other a Sunday bonnet.

Derek grinned as he helped himself to a slice of crispy bacon. He was ravenous after the long night of debauch­ery.

Rather than sit at the table with Mary, Derek leaned against the sink. There was nothing he could tell his mother about the break-up, so he didn't address that issue at all, choosing to go straight to the point instead. "As you can see, Mother, you came at a bad time. Meredith and I have plans."

"To do what?" she asked, her tone cool.

"Nothing that concerns you."

Mary stiffened, then went through the routine of doc­toring her coffee. Finally, she said, "I need to be at the Foundation soon. It seems we have a rebellion on our hands."

Derek gave Mary a sharp look. Old instincts were hard to break, and he almost asked her to explain. As Meredith had said, he had friends at the Foundation, people he cared about. Mary's interference at this point would only make matters worse.

At the last second, Derek caught himself. It wasn't easy, but he managed a credible shrug of unconcern. "You mean _you _have a rebellion. I'm out of it, remember?"

"You can't tell me you don't care, Derek. I know you better than that."

He shook his head slowly. "No, I _**don't**_think you know me at all."

Mary looked stricken for only a moment then she ral­lied. She cloaked herself in belligerence. "I went out of my way to come here and I don't have much time. Surely you can see Meredith whenever you like?"

She made it sound like a question, putting Derek on alert. He wondered what she was up to now.

"Not so." No way in hell was he going to leave Meredith alone with his mother until he knew what she wanted. "Meredith got a new job and she has to work later, so her time today is limited."

Mary froze. "Where is she working?"

Wondering what his mother's reaction would be, Derek sipped his coffee and looked at her over the rim. "She's waiting tables in the bar for Mark."

Mary dropped her spoon to the tabletop with a clatter. She appeared genuinely horrified. "She's _what?"_

Gratified that his mother liked it even less than he did, Derek expounded on Meredith's new employment. "She started yesterday, and from what I can tell, she loves it."

"But that's absurd!"

Derek shrugged, adding slyly, "Evidently, compared to her old job, working in a bar is a lot of fun."

Since her old job had been with Mary, his ­mother looked ready to have a full-fledged fit. Derek hid his grin behind another sip of steaming coffee. He could see why Mark went out of his way to rile her. There was a certain pleasure to be found in making Mary Shepherd lose her mask of cold arrogance.

Derek detailed Meredith's duties. "She'll be waiting tables, serving food and alcohol. Not just during the day, but late at night, too."

Mary sputtered, she was so indignant. "That place is ..."

"Mark has it mostly under control," Derek interrupted before Mary could go off on a tangent. "He's really turned it around. It was a complete dive when he first bought it, but now it's pretty respectable. Most of the time, anyway."

Derek couldn't let Mary make slurs against Mark. But he appreciated, even welcomed, this proof that she cared for Meredith. He should have already known it; after all, who could be close to Meredith and not love her?

Those sentiments echoed in Derek's mind and he promptly choked. _He'd _been closer to Meredith than anyone.

Mary slanted Derek a curious look. "Regardless of Mark's admirable work ethic and all his well-meaning ef­forts, the hotel bar is still no place for a young woman like Meredith."

Derek blinked twice at what clearly was a compliment for his little brother. Wait until he told Mark! He was likely to faint from shock.

Shaking himself, Derek said, "My sentiments exactly. Many of the men at the bar can be crude and pushy. Meredith is too open, too caring, and far too naive to deal with drunks. And every Friday and Saturday night, the bar has a few."

Mary slapped her hand down onto the table. "Derek Shepherd, if you truly understand how naive Meredith is, then why in the world are you toying with her?"

Damn. She'd turned that one around on him. Derek took his time stealing another piece of bacon before an­swering. It gave him time to think, but unfortunately, he had no arguments to offer. "My relationship with Meredith is my own business."

"A relationship implies there's more than what meets the eye." Mary stared at him hard. "Are you telling me you actually care for Meredith?"

"I'm telling you," Derek said through his teeth, "to butt out."

Mary pushed to her feet, outraged at such rudeness.

Derek shoved away from the countertop, tired of her in­terference.

"Meredith needs someone to look out for her. I'm taking on that responsibility."

"I'm not discussing this with you, Mary." In the past, Derek had made a habit of trying to please his ­mother. That had obviously been a mistake. He'd already made up his mind that if they were to deal well together, it'd have to be on his terms for a change.

"I'd like to make you an offer."

Derek froze. His stomach tightened and his thoughts narrowed. "What kind of offer?"

"Despite your contrary determination to deny it, I know you love the Foundation, and I know that I need you there. I'll accept that. I'll also accept that things are over between you and Addison."

Derek didn't so much as blink an eye.

Mary drew a deep breath. "I'll gladly reinstate you into the family, and I'll hire Meredith back."

Derek forced the words past his apprehension. "Yeah? So what's the catch?"

Mary locked her gaze with his. "I want you to marry Meredith."

Shock, followed by disappointment, slammed into Derek with blinding force.

_"Goddammit." _He plunked his mug down on the counter so hard the handle broke off. He turned his back to Mary, trying but failing to get a grip on his temper. "I fucking knew it."

"You watch your mouth, young man!"

His hands curled into fists. A red mist swam in front of his eyes, mostly because he'd been duped. He'd stupidly hoped she was sincere.

Derek's jaw ached and his words were hard and clipped. "You just can't trust my decisions, can you?"

She waved that away. "Think about it. This will stop the gossip against Addison and it'll spare Meredith's reputation. Sleeping around is one thing, but if you marry Meredith, everyone will think it's romantic, that you were both swept away on love."

"And to hell with what I want?"

Mary raised her voice in annoyance. "Well, given your intimate relationship, I assumed you wanted Meredith."

He laughed at her audacity. "No."

She fell silent for a long moment. "What does that mean?"

Anger, not honesty, forged his reply. Derek braced his hands on the sink and concentrated on not shouting. "I said _no. _No I don't want your deal, and no I won't marry Meredith . If I ever get engaged again, it'll be to a woman I choose, not one you line up for me."

"You won't even consider it?"

His voice rose with his irritation. Lately he'd done noth­ing but consider his relationship with Meredith —and he still had no set answers. He shook his head, denying his ­mother, denying his own confusion. "Hell no."

"Then you should leave her alone!"

"That," Derek growled, "isn't your decision to make." No way would he walk away from Meredith now. Hell, he doubted he could.

A very small voice intruded on his thoughts. "I agree."

* * *


	24. Chapter 24

**Okay so this took a lot longer than planned. Sorry. **

**But I have an update for you now.**

* * *

Derek swung around. Meredith stood in the kitchen door­way, her face pale, her eyes watchful. 

_Wounded._

She wore a long loose sundress of soft green that made her skin look creamy and emphasized her eyes. Her feet were bare, her arms crossed protectively over her middle. Her long hair, still damp, had been neatly braided and hung over her shoulder.

Derek took a step toward her. "Meredith ..."

She turned to his mother. "Mary, I'd like you to leave now."

Mary worried her thin hands together. "How long have you been eavesdropping, young lady?"

Meredith gave a sad smile. "I heard the raised voices. I hur­ried to dress because I thought..." Her words fell into si­lence, then she shook her head. "Never mind."

But Derek knew what Meredith had been about to say. She'd thought she might need to protect him again.

Instead, she was the one who needed protecting.

Derek wanted to curse, to punch the wall. He wanted to lift Meredith up in his arms and hold her. But she didn't so much as glance at him, and the sudden emotional distance was unbearable.

"Please, Mary." Meredith kept her head high, her voice gentle. "I think you should go."

"Yes." Mary glanced at Derek. She appeared as con­cerned, as apologetic as he felt. Neither of them had meant to hurt Meredith. She'd been an innocent bystander in their verbal battle for control. "Yes, I need to be going. There are issues to be resolved at the Foundation."

She embraced Meredith, even kissed her cheek. Meredith held herself away, distant in a way Derek had seldom observed.

Mary pretended nothing had happened. "Please, if you find time, Meredith, I'd love for you to visit."

At any other time, Derek might have been amazed at his mother's effrontery. She'd fired Meredith and now in­vited her over for a friendly visit.

But at the moment he was too concerned with Meredith's feelings to notice anything else. She escorted Mary back through the living room. Derek stood in the kitchen doorway, watching in silence.

Mary paused. "Meredith, I didn't mean ..."

"I know." Meredith pulled the door open and waited.

With nothing more to say, Mary left. Her step wasn't as spry as usual, and Derek spared a moment's worry for his cantankerous mother.

When Meredith started back into the kitchen, Derek re­fused to move. He felt volatile with a mixture of guilt and determination.

Meredith cleared her throat. "I'll start the eggs."

"I said I'd cook them."

She stared past his right shoulder. "Okay. I can do the toast."

Her agreeable tone rankled. Derek unfolded his arms and tried to loosen his knotted muscles. "This isn't going to work, Mer."

"What won't work?" Now her normally direct gaze was on his throat. She obviously didn't want to look at him, but he wasn't going to stand for that.

Derek shook his head and pinched her chin. "You're pissed off at me, but you're trying to hide it."

Startled, she jerked her attention to his face. "Of course I'm not mad. Why would you think that?"

"You won't look at me."

"I'm looking at you now."

"Sort of," he agreed. "But not like you usually look at me."

She edged past him into the kitchen. Her breasts brushed his chest, her belly brushed his hip. "I'm embar­rassed, if you want the truth."

"I always want you to be truthful with me, Meredith. You know that."

She went to the refrigerator and pulled out a carton of eggs and the butter. "All right." She looked expectantly at him. "Do you really want to cook, or do you want me to?"

Impatience nearly choked him. "I'll do the damn eggs." He strode to the stove and flipped on the burner switch to heat the pan. "Tell me what you're embarrassed about."

Her brow puckered with a small frown. "Your mother is trying to force you to do things with me that you don't want to do."

Derek put a pat of butter in the hot skillet and expertly cracked four eggs. "After last night, I'd think you'd realize there isn't much I don't want to do with you."

Meredith dropped bread into the toaster, then watched it, as if making toast required her rapt attention. "Sexually, yes. That was our agreement."

Derek pointed the spatula at her. "I'll tell you what, Meredith. I'm getting damned sick and tired of you throwing that stupid agreement into my face."

Like a small volcano erupting, Meredith lost her temper. She whirled toward him, a butter knife clutched in her hand. "It was _your _agreement!" She poked the knife to­ward him for emphasis. "You"—poke, poke—"came up with it and all _I _did"—she pointed the knife at herself— "was agree."

"Damn it, be careful before you stab yourself." Derek put down the spatula and wrestled the knife away from Meredith. She started to turn away, but he caught her upper arm. "You know good and well what I'm saying here, Meredith."

She yanked free of his hold, then went on tiptoe, her eyes blazing with dark fury. "You were very clear, thank you."

"Shit." He caught both her arms this time. "I'm not talking about my conversation with Mary."

Meredith scowled. "No? You're talking about our agree­ment, then?"

"Quit calling what we have an agreement." That damn word felt like a curse on his tongue.

"What would you call it?"

"Why do we have to call it anything?" he asked, for lack of a better answer. "Why not just enjoy ourselves?"

"I _am _enjoying myself." She sounded angry.

Derek rubbed her arms, trying to calm her. "Right. Sex and only sex."

Her chin lifted high. "That's what you said you wanted."

He laughed. Meredith was rather cute in her pugnacious, antagonistic mood. "Lately, I've been a fool in more ways than one."

"Oh, no." She shook her head furiously. "You are not a fool. And in this case, you were right. Anything more than sex between us would be ridiculous."

It was Derek's turn to go quiet with anger. Here he was, struggling to figure out his relationship with Meredith, and she flatly denied any relationship.

He curled his mouth without humor. "If we're going to be accurate, I believe I said I wanted hot, wet, grinding sex and a woman who'd give it to me any way I asked."

Meredith's eyes warmed, and some of her belligerence melted away, replaced by that awesome awareness that never failed to steal his breath. "Yeah, so?" Her glare lin­gered. "I remember."

Derek lowered his voice, rubbed her naked shoulders. "And still you said yes."

A pulse in her throat thrummed. "I've held to my end of the bargain."

Derek suddenly smelled the eggs and released her to take them from the pan. He put two in each plate and turned off the stove. "Breakfast will wait."

She took a step back. "What are you going to do?"

"Anything I want Meredith, right?" Slowly, with precise movements, he pulled his shirt off over his head. "You're so fond of reminding me that we have an agreement. You want to stick to the letter of that agreement. Great. Who am I to complain?"

She eyed his naked chest and started breathing a little harder. "Derek, I..."

"Take off your dress, Meredith."

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**I am writing another update.. so I will update more today. **

**Thanks for your reviews... I love them...**


	25. Chapter 25

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She backed up against the refrigerator and stood there frozen. For the moment, he ignored her and went about clearing the table.

"Derek?"

He flattened a hand on the tabletop and tested the sturdiness. "I think this'll support us, don't you?"

She stared at the table, wide-eyed and apprehensive. "We ... we were going to have breakfast." Derek could hear her breathing, fast and low.

Slanting her a look, he said, "I'd rather eat you than eggs anytime."

Her lips parted. She folded her hands over her belly, holding herself. "But..."

"You're not finishing your sentences, Meredith." She looked confused, uncertain, and turned on. Already her nipples were puckered, pressing against the soft material of her dress. Her toes curled against the linoleum floor and her mouth quivered.

Derek wasn't sure what he wanted to prove, but deter­mination to prove it rode him hard. "Hey, that's okay. I'd rather you get naked than talk anyway."

She looked around the kitchen—at the cooked eggs, the cleared table, then back at him. "You're angry."

"Nope." Derek opened the fastenings to his slacks and pulled down the zipper to ease the restriction against his erection. "I'm aroused. There's a fine difference there." He sat down and pulled off his shoes and socks.

Meredith licked her lips while staring at his naked ab­domen where the slacks parted. "We don't have any pro­tection here."

"We'll work around that problem. Trust me, Meredith, there are ways, things you haven't even imagined yet." She looked blank, nervous. Derek leaned back in his chair, stretched out his legs, and nodded at her. "Out of the dress, Meredith."

Derek could tell she wanted to.

He didn't repeat himself, just waited and watched her.

Very slowly, Meredith caught the hem of the long dress and inched it up. Past her calves, her knees, her thighs.

Her face flushed, her breath came too fast.

Derek caught a glimpse of panties, her belly, then her naked breasts drew his attention as she pulled the dress up and over her head. She held it in front of herself and looked at him.

"Drop it."

Biting her lips, Meredith held the dress to the side and let it fall to the floor.

"Take off your panties." His voice was gruff, com­manding. Derek felt wired, on the explosive edge. The night of excess might not have happened, he was so hard again.

Always, Meredith affected him this way. He wondered if ten years from now, he'd still go wild at the thought of having her.

He wondered if he'd even know her in ten years.

"I'm waiting, Meredith."

She bent at the waist and started to push down her underwear. Derek said, "No, wait." His blood rushed through his veins, hot and thick. "Turn around first."

"Derek..."

Again, he merely waited. Meredith frowned, blushed pret­tily, and turned. For half a minute she didn't move, then in a rush she bent and shoved the underwear down so she could step out of it.

Derek groaned, seeing her delicate pink vulva, her soft white ass. She immediately straightened, and Derek reached out to catch her hand. "Come here, Meredith."

Like a zombie, she allowed him to lead her. Derek pulled her between his thighs. He cupped her breasts and stroked them, thumbed her erect nipples. "Lean down here," he said, and when she did so, he caught her left nip­ple in his mouth, sucking strongly.

Meredith moaned and braced her hands on his shoulders.

Her breasts were so soft, he couldn't get enough of them. Meredith hugged him to her, her heartbeat fluttering wildly,

"Up onto the table, Meredith." He didn't wait for her to comply. He hefted her up onto the edge of the tabletop so that she sat facing him while he remained in the chair. "Open your legs wide. Here, brace yourself with your hands behind you and put your feet next to my shoulders, on the back of the chair."

He positioned her just as he wanted her, her thighs alongside his shoulders, leaving her open to him. His heart rapped hard as he gently eased her knees farther apart, which forced Meredith to lean back on her elbows for better balance. He literally sat between her widespread thighs. She was a feast, laid out for him and his voracious ap­petite.

"I want you to watch me, Meredith," he told her when he noticed she stared up at the ceiling. "Keep those beautiful eyes of yours on my face. Or," he added as he brushed his fin­gers through her curls, "on my hands where I touch you."

Nodding, she whispered, "Okay."

Derek smiled. He used the fingertips of both hands to carefully part her outer lips. "Look at how pink you are, Meredith." He felt her slight flinch and glanced at her face with concern. "Are you sore?"

She spoke on a nearly silent breath of sound. "No."

As Derek moved his fingers carefully over her, pulling her farther open, examining her up close, her whole body shuddering.

"Then this doesn't hurt?" He worked his first and mid­dle fingers deep into her.

She gasped and her head tipped back.

"Look, Meredith."

Her throat moved as she swallowed, but she brought her attention back to his hands.

He continued to stroke, long and easy and deep. The sight of his rough fingers pushing into her was erotic. "You look so tender, I don't want to hurt you."

"You're . . . you're not hurting me," Meredith rasped.

Derek watched her clitoris swell, but he didn't touch her there, not yet. She was already wet, her whole body flushed, her thighs shivering. This close, she smelled like the soap and lotion she'd used after her bath.

She also smelled of womanly excitement.

Derek took her by surprise, saying, "Which feels better, Meredith ? My fingers—or my tongue?"

And he bent to lick her.

_"Oh, God."_

Her hips lifted off the table in response. Derek traced each slick, soft fold, licking, tasting, then he curled his tongue around her clitoris and tugged.

Meredith gave a shuddering, husky moan and her hips twisted. Her arms gave out and she sprawled flat on the table while her feet pressed so hard against Derek's chair that she nearly turned him over.

Derek brought his hands up to her breasts to anchor himself and play with her nipples. The dual assault had her quickly beside herself, and Derek decided to bring her to an orgasm. Meredith was so responsive, it never took long. Within minutes, she was crying out with her release.

She was still moving, her chest heaving, when Derek jerked to his feet and shoved his slacks down. He cursed the lack of a rubber but promised Meredith, "I'll be careful," and he leaned forward to slide his cock along her mound, between her lips, without entering her.

She was so wet the glide was easy, maddeningly hot. Meredith continued to lift and thrust against him, taking the small aftershocks of her climax. The direct contact against her still pulsing tissues had them both groaning.

Derek hooked his arms under her thighs, took her breasts in his hands and thrust against her, faster and faster, and then with a stifled roar, he came on her belly.

His legs shook and he slumped back into his chair. Meredith lay there, stunned, staring at the ceiling. After she caught her breath, she muttered, "Wow."

Derek laughed, but the sound was weak and shaky.

Meredith leaned up and looked down the length of her body to her belly. She wore an expression of wonder, sur­prise, as she saw what he'd done. With a touch of awe, she said, "Huh."

Smiling, feeling good from the inside out, Derek ab­sently patted her soft thigh. "I think I could eat those eggs now, Meredith. What about you?"

Meredith plunked back on the table with a snicker.

Because it was the manly thing to do, Derek struggled to his feet and pulled several paper towels off the roll. He ran water in the sink. "Be still, Meredith, and I'll clean you up."

She mumbled some incoherent reply. When he turned back to her, Derek saw that her eyes were now closed and her legs dangled limply off the side of the table. He stroked the cool towels over her skin.

Derek tossed the towels away, caught Meredith under the arms, and hauled her up to face him. "One thing. Mer."

She blinked big, still vague eyes open. "Yes?"

Her hair had come partly free from the ponytail and stuck out in wild disarray. Derek tucked several long, loose strands behind her ears. "You've never had sex, so you can't know. But what you and I have ..." He struggled for the right words, trying to find a way to make her under­stand when he didn't really understand himself. "It's dif­ferent."

A dose of caution crept into her expression. "How?"

Derek shook his head, mentally fumbling. "It's . . . bet­ter, more. Deeper."

Meredith trailed one finger over his chest. "Definitely deep."

He wanted to groan again. "Forget what I said to my mother, okay? She has nothing to do with us."

Her smile was shy, sweetly accepting. Unconvinced. "All right."

Derek frowned at her. Any other woman he knew would have demanded an explanation, but not Meredith . She ad­hered to that damn emotional distance he'd first asked for, and she'd so readily agreed to.

Now he wanted more, but how much more? Until he figured that out, he knew he couldn't push her. But at least the hurt was gone from her eyes, Derek thought as he handed her sundress back to her. He'd have to be satisfied with that much—for now.

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**THANKS FOR YOUR REVIEWS. THEY ****MEAN THE WORLD TO ME **


	26. Chapter 26

**Okay, so I am so sorry I disappeared (life is crazy)**

**But, finally, here is an update.**

**And again, thanks for your reviews and for your patience.**

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Mark surveyed the crowd in the diner and wanted to laugh. Meredith had been working for a week, and Derek had been there almost every night that Meredith had. He watched over her like a guard dog and growled at any cus­tomer who gave her a second look. 

He did a lot of growling.

With Derek's attention, Meredith had bloomed into a self-confident beauty. Without realizing it, she exuded raw, earthy appeal, leading Mark to believe she and his brother were really burning up the sheets. Mark grinned. Not only did Meredith look more sexually aware these days, but Derek was about as content as he could be.

Except for when other men came on to Meredith. And they did, repeatedly. Most of Mark's regulars had already been on the receiving end of Derek's possessive stares, and they'd backed off to a tone of excessive politeness. But the others had no clue that Meredith had been most thoroughly claimed. She smiled at men, and they melted. They also teased and flirted and made subtle suggestions that Meredith either ignored or didn't catch.

Mark found it all hilarious. Rather than retreat to his rooms after a long workday, he found himself hanging out in the diner to watch the nightly drama unfolding.

It was on the downhill slide to midnight now, less than an hour till he closed. Yet the place had plenty of people hanging around. Most of those customers were directly linked to Meredith somehow.

She brought in business.

So when Derek had requested that Mark not work Meredith nights or weekends, he'd had been all too happy to com­ply. Unfortunately, the schedule for the current week had already been set by the time Derek reached him, and Meredith wouldn't hear of changing it. In the future, she'd work a few nights only during the week. Mark had no problem with that.

He'd also given Meredith the coming weekend off so she and Derek could take a jaunt to Los Angeles. Again, Meredith had argued, seeing the free weekend as favouritism. Mark had convinced her by using her tender-hearted nature, and her feelings for Derek, against her.

Meredith wanted to go, and Mark had convinced her that Derek needed her. Derek would have strung him up by his thumbs if he knew, but Mark considered it nothing less than the truth. His brother did need Meredith, whether he realized it or not. Around her, he was a different man. Derek had always been attentive to Addison, but with Meredith he was keenly aware of everything she did.

That told Mark all he needed to know.

Derek sauntered up to him. "I know why I'm here," he said, gazing around at the mostly male clientele. "Why are you here?"

"Entertainment. If I went to my rooms, I'd just do paper­work or watch a movie. Here, I get to watch you watch Meredith while everyone else watches her, too."

Derek made a sound of disgust but didn't refute that. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the bar.

Three men came in. They wore ragged jeans, tight T-shirts, and work boots. And they sat at one of Meredith's tables.

Derek was up and off his bar stool in a heartbeat. Mark silently wondered if he should be paying Derek a bouncer's salary, considering how much time he spent making cer­tain Meredith 's work environment stayed pleasant. Derek didn't say anything to the men, but he did stop Meredith, tip up her chin, and give her a lingering kiss right in the middle of the floor. Meredith got so flustered, she nearly dropped her tray.

Derek released her, gave the men a long look, and posi­tioned himself at an empty table—facing them.

Mark had to turn away so no one would see him laugh­ing. If he ever got that smitten with a woman, he hoped someone would shoot him to put him out of his misery

Not that Derek seemed to be suffering. Just the opposite. But Mark knew he liked variety far too much to ever get so infatuated with a single woman.

They'd long since quit serving anything besides drinks, and Mark looked around the diner, making sure everything was in order. He was ready to head to his rooms when another small crowd entered, catching his attention.

Mark turned—and knew there'd be trouble.

Meredith was close at hand, standing at the bar to turn in a new drink order. Mark stepped up to her side. "Aren't those the guys who work at the Foundation?"

Meredith turned, and a huge smile broke out on her face. "It's Andrew and Enrico and Colman."

Mark knew two of them from brief introductions. Andrew was the accountant, and Colman was the manager.

The other man Mark knew by reputation. Enrico the bull. He shook his head.

It looked like he wouldn't be turning in after all.

Meredith watched as the newcomers scanned the bar, lo­cated Derek seated at his corner table, and started toward him. She was very pleased that they'd sought him out.

Derek, however, didn't look the least bit happy about it.

They were still standing awkwardly next to Derek's table when Meredith approached a minute later. Ignoring Derek's dark frown, she said, "Why don't you grab some chairs? There's plenty of room."

At the sound of her voice, Andrew turned—and did a double take. "Meredith? What are you doing here?"

Feeling very pleased with herself, Meredith gave a small curtsy. "I work here now."

Colman pulled out a chair, checked the seat as if he expected to find it dirty, then Meredith fully lowered himself. "That's right," he said. "Derek told us you got fired, too, after you hired that cretin to manage."

Meredith flushed. "Hiring him wasn't my decision, it was Ms. Shepherd's, and that's not why I got fired."

Andrew pulled a chair around and straddled it. "Yeah? Why did you get canned?"

Meredith cast a guilty glance at Derek, which she was afraid everyone noticed. Though Derek didn't seem to be doing much to keep their relationship private, she still felt hesitant to broadcast it.

Enrico walked from one side of her to the other. His ebony gaze moved over her in an insultingly intimate way. Before Meredith could react, Derek was on his feet beside her.

"What do you want, Del Torro?"

Enrico shrugged and gestured toward the other two men. "I am part of the mutiny." He tipped his head and smiled at Meredith. She saw that his inky dark hair was caught in a ponytail, and a fat diamond glinted in his ear.

Something about his black eyes disconcerted her. She wanted to ease her hand into Derek's, but she knew that would give too much away. It hadn't been that long since Derek had broken things off with Addison, and she knew speculation would be ripe.

Derek encompassed them all in a look. "I already told you, if you have a problem, take it to Mary."

"That's pointless," Colman said on a righteous sniff.

"Not my problem," Derek stated.

Enrico looked disgusted. "Addison said you would be this way."

Derek's eyes turned ice blue and he smiled. "Addison was right."

"She hangs out in the Foundation every day, Derek."

Andrew shook his head. "I don't understand what the hell is going on."

Meredith grabbed for another chair. "Here you go, Mr. Del Torro. Why don't you all get comfortable and I'll get you something to drink?"

Derek took the chair from Meredith before she could posi­tion it under the table. "He's not staying, Meredith."

She scowled at him. Under her breath, she said, "What is the matter with you? You're being entirely rude."

Derek smiled at her, then flicked the end of her nose. It always seemed to amuse him when she lost her temper. "I have my reasons, Meredith."

And those reasons, she thought, were evidently none of her business, because he didn't explain. Meredith huffed. "Well, you're causing a scene."

Derek looked around and saw it was true. The ten re­maining people in the diner were watching him with avid curiosity. "Isn't it about time to close up, anyway?"

Meredith glanced at her watch. "Sorry. We have half an hour."

"Damn."

Andrew reached out to slug Derek on the arm, "C'mon, man. At least hear us out. Hell, if something doesn't hap­pen soon, I'll have to quit. Michael already did quit and Dean's looking for a new job."

Colman nodded. "I as well."

Meredith turned to Derek, horrified. At this rate, Mary would lose the Foundation in no time, and it had been in the family too long for that. "Derek?"

Groaning, Derek dropped back into his seat. "All right, I'll listen. But I don't know what you think I can do. I don't work there anymore." And with a stabbing look at Meredith , he added, "I wish someone would remember that."

Hiding her relief, Meredith took drink orders of beer and wine and scotch. Enrico shook his head, refusing a drink while continuing to watch her with his penetrating, enig­matic gaze.

Mark waited for Meredith at the bar. "What's going on?"

"I don't know." She handed in her order and turned to Mark. "Something's wrong at the Foundation and they want Derek's help."

He frowned in thought. "Mary is sinking fast. I'm sur­prised. I really thought she'd hold it together longer than that."

"It's a different place now from when she started it all. The atmosphere reflects Derek and his values. He made those changes, those improvements, little by little, but Mary isn't as subtle. She's probably trying to handle things as she always did, by bulldozing forward and mak­ing demands, and that won't work anymore."

Mark gave her a crooked grin. "All that, huh?"

Blushing, Meredith shrugged. "I didn't mean to psychoana­lyze. It's just that the two of them approach things very differently."

"It hasn't even been two weeks since Derek walked out."

"He oversaw everything. Without that constant super­vision, things will fall apart." Reluctantly, Meredith admitted, "I feel sorry for your mother."

Mark snorted at that. "She makes her own problems."

"Not on purpose. All her life she's been guided by pride. It's all she knows. Personally, I think it's up to you and Derek to show her another way."

Mark looked stunned by the accusation in her tone.

Meredith collected the drinks and walked away while Mark was still sputtering. She didn't want to wait for him to find a rebuttal to her assessment. It'd be good for him to think about the situation for a while.

As she got near the table, Meredith heard Derek say, "I think you should all write your grievances down and take them to Mary. When she sees that there are more than a few small problems, she'll have to pay attention."

"I tried that." Andrew accepted his scotch and took a healthy drink. "Thanks, Meredith."

Colman sipped at his wine. "It did us no good at all." He cast a glance at Derek. "She gave us the impression you might be returning to work soon."

Enrique lounged back in his seat, looking insolent and bored. The collar of his black silk shirt was opened so low, Meredith could see a generous amount of curling black chest hair and three silver chains. "Your mother thinks that soon, _everything _will be as it was."

Derek ignored him, but Andrew said, "Knock it off, Del Torro."

Enrico shrugged. "Is it so?"

It was clear Enrico asked about more than the situa­tion at the Foundation. Though Derek had said time and again that it was over with Addison, Meredith held her breath.

Derek said only, "My mother is hopeful."

Meredith turned to walk away—but not before she saw Enrico's hands curl into fists. She had a strong suspicion now about Addison's lover, and her heart ached for the other woman. True enough, her parents would not be happy. But then, how could Addison herself be happy?

Enrico was a womanizer of the first order. He wouldn't be an easy man to love.

Meredith waved to Mark as she darted into the back room. She needed a break to think, and now was as good a time as any. The customers were thinning out by the minute and Derek was well occupied.

Meredith dropped change into the pop machine and then plopped down at the round table. She propped her feet up on the chair across from her.

She'd just taken a long cold drink when Enrico pushed the door open and stepped in. He found Meredith and slowly smiled.

"Enrico! This room is for employees only." A thought occurred to Meredith, and she asked, "Were you looking for the boys' room?"

His bold gaze never left her as he shrugged and stepped farther inside. "So I said to the others. But I wanted to see you."


	27. Chapter 27

**Okay, so this update has taken forever. And I'm so, so sorry for that. **

**Thanks for your reviews... I love them.**

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_She'd just taken a long cold drink when Enrico pushed__the door open and stepped in. He found Meredith and slowly __smiled._

_"Enrico! This room is for employees only." A thought __occurred to Meredith, and she asked, "Were you looking for __the boys' room?"_

_His bold gaze never left her as he shrugged and stepped __farther inside. "So I said to the others. But I wanted to see you."_

Meredith dropped her feet back to the floor and straight­ened. "Why?"

_"Necesito sentir tu piel contra la mia."_

Meredith scowled. Her high school Spanish was rusty, but she got the gist of it. _I need to feel your skin against mine. _She shook her fist at him. "I'll give you something to feel."

His dark brows rose and he looked delighted. "You speak Spanish?"

"Not well enough to converse, so perhaps you should ..."

He moved closer, around the table, so that he stood at her side. Meredith quickly stood. She didn't like having him loom over her.

He touched her cheek and murmured, _"Si tu fueras un __postre, saborearia cada bocado, especialmente la crema __azotada."_

Meredith slapped his hand away. "How dare you! I am not a dessert and there's no whipped cream on me anywhere."

He looked sly, and his gaze dipped over her body. "Ah, but I think you are very creamy and delicious, _si?"_

Perhaps Derek was right, Meredith thought with a hint of panic. She had no idea how to deal with a really pushy man. She was so embarrassed, she wanted to sink into the floor. And she was so outraged, she considered hitting Del Torro over the head with a chair.

He reached for Meredith and she backed up, then tripped and sprawled into her chair. Meredith was thinking she was lucky she hadn't hit the floor, until Enrico caged her in with his arms.

He leaned down very close to whisper, _"Tu tienes un __cuerpo de un Diosa."_

Meredith had had enough. She shoved against him hard. "You ass ! Goddess's are not ordinary!"

Derek spoke from the doorway. "I warned you about saying things like that, Meredith."

Meredith's mouth fell open while Enrico moved back and away from her.

Derek's pose was casual, his words negligent. To some­one who didn't know him well, he might not even look dangerous. But Meredith did know him, and she saw right away that his crossed arms were tight with restraint and bulging muscles. His feet were braced as if he might lunge at any minute.

And his eyes blazed like hot blue flames.

"Derek," Meredith squeaked as she scurried around the table and put herself between the two men. "Whatever you're thinking of doing, you can just stop thinking it."

He flicked a glance at her face and smiled. There was nothing amusing in that particular curl of his lips. "Not this time, baby."

Panic skittered down her spine. "Damn you, Derek. I will not have you causing a ruckus where I work."

Mark edged in around Derek. "Hey Meredith. I own the place, and personally, I'm looking forward to watching Derek take him apart."

"Mark!"

He smiled and started to tug her out of the line of hos­tility.

Meredith reacted before either brother could stop her. She threw herself against Derek and locked her arms around his neck. "This is not going to happen."

Derek tried to pry her loose, but short of hurting her, he couldn't. And she knew he wouldn't hurt her.

"Turn loose, Meredith."

"No." She pressed her face into his throat.

"I'll just hit him once or twice," Derek soothed, trying to convince her.

She tightened her arms around him. "No and no! You're not hitting anyone, so forget it."

Derek gave up with a growling sigh. With Meredith hang­ing down his chest like a chunky necklace, he stalked to­ward Enrico. With each stomping step he took, Meredith got jostled.

But she didn't let go.

Derek kept one hand on Meredith's back, protecting her, even cuddling her. With the other he grabbed Enrico by the collar. Judging by the flex of chest muscles under her cheek, Meredith knew he'd lifted Enrico right off the floor.

She heard the solid thump of a body hitting the wall.

"I'll say this just once, Del Torro." Derek's words were low, gritty, and so mean, even Meredith flinched. "_Touch_ her again, fucking _look _at her again, and I'll kill you."

Meredith cringed. Good grief, that was rather blunt and to the point.

Their relationship was out of the bag now.

Surprisingly, Enrico didn't turn tail and run. "You did not fight for Addison," he spat.

"No, I didn't, did I?" There was another thump as Derek bounced the older man up against the wall again. "But don't think this time will be the same. You wanted Addison and now you have her. Be satisfied with that, because if you come near Meredith again, I'll take you apart."

Meredith could feel the rippling anger in Derek, the heat of rage pulsing off him, and she held on, uncertain what else to do.

Enrico, pulling the tiger's tail, growled, "And if I'm not satisfied?"

Meredith wanted to groan. She pushed back from Derek, ready to give Enrico a piece of her mind.

A feminine gasp intruded on the room of pulsing testos­terone. "Enrico?"

Derek turned, which meant Meredith and Enrico turned as well, being that he held one and the other held him. Mark pushed to his feet. A collective breath was held as Addison stepped through the kitchens and into the break room.

She stared at Enrico and big tears welled in her eyes, her bottom lip quivering.

Derek released Enrico with a shove and closed both arms about Meredith. His hands rubbed her back distract­edly. She felt him press a kiss to a temple, but all her atten­tion was on Addison.

Her heart wrenched in sympathy at what Addison had just overheard.

Enrico looked at Addison as if she'd materialized from the air. _"Mi amor. . ."_

For a moment Addison looked ready to crumble to the floor. She was pale, her expression strained, tired, con­fused. And then she thrust up her chin. "You . . . you bas­tard!"

With her head high and her shoulders straight, she turned and strode back through the kitchens.

Mark looked at Enrico in disgust. Derek just scowled at him. But Meredith pushed loose of Derek's hold. "You big jerk!" She didn't think about it, she just drew back and popped Enrico right in the nose.

He howled.

Derek stared at her and said in surprise, _"Meredith," _while Mark fell into the wall, laughing.

Shaking her bruised hand, Meredith retorted, "You can damn well hit him, too, if you want. He deserves it."

Enrico held his bleeding nose and started out of the room, ignoring everyone as he shouted, "Addison!"

Mark cocked a brow. "Thank God she had enough sense to come in through the kitchen, otherwise this floor show might rival Enrico's performance at the restaurant."

Meredith rounded on Mark, furious at his apparent insensitivity. He held up both hands. "Don't hit me, slugger."

Meredith thought about hitting him anyway, but her hand hurt too much.

Mark laughed. "Hell, I feel like I'm watching a soap opera, with all these twists and turns. Am I the only one not sleeping around on the sly?"

Derek gave him a shove and attempted to pull Meredith close again. "Let me see your hand. Did you hurt your­self?"

Meredith pulled back. "Derek, you should go check on her."

He shook his head. "Hell no."

"She's your friend."

"It's a private matter, Meredith, between her and Del Torro."

Meredith scowled at him. "But he hurt her."

Derek took her hand again, examining her knuckles. "Addison's a big girl and she chose him. As long as he has enough sense to stay away from you, they can work it out on their own."

Meredith slapped his hands away and stalked out. Derek started after her. "Damn it, Meredith."

Mark grinned and followed them both. "I'll admit I'm cu­rious how this will play out."

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**I will try to update this weekend ( certainly Sunday)**

**Again, thanks for your reviews and your patience.**


	28. Chapter 28

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Meredith heard them both stomping after her. They found Enrico in the kitchens, boxing Addison into a corner. He held a dish towel to his nose while rambling in mixed Spanish and English.

Addison kept half-heartedly attempting to push him away. "Forget it, Enrico." She sniffed delicately. "I should have known better than to ever trust _the bull."_

"I did not choose the nickname!"

"No," Addison said, sounding defeated, "but you chose to live up to it."

Enrico shook his head. His normally melodic voice was nasal, given the way he pinched his nose with the towel. "You are the one ashamed of our love. _You _are the one who said I should continue to flirt, so no one would suspect."

Addison's stricken expression darkened with guilt. "I never told you to flirt with her!" She pointed over his shoulder at Meredith.

Meredith, feeling sheepish, rushed to explain. "He was just trying to rile Derek because he's mad that Derek didn't fight for you."

_"Si, si!"_

Addison looked sceptical, but then, so did Derek and Mark.

"I'm supposed to believe that after what I just heard? I'm not that big a fool, Enrico." More tears welled in her eyes. "You said you weren't satisfied with me."

"No, no," Enrico muttered. _"Tu eres el aire que respiro."_

Meredith could tell Addison didn't understand and leaned in to translate. " 'You are the air that I breathe."

Addison smacked at him, and he let her. "Why is it," she demanded, "you only speak Spanish when you're trying to seduce me?"

He waved a hand, gesturing to his head. "Thinking English is impossible when I want you. And I always want you."

Her expression softened, her chest expanded. "Now?"

_"Si." _Enrico cupped Addison's cheek with his free hand; it was shaking. _"Necestio probarle."_

Addison, frowning suspiciously, looked at Meredith. Meredith smiled and said, " 'I need to taste you.' "

Mark nudged Derek. "I never thought to hear Meredith talk­ing dirty to another woman. It's sort of a turn-on, huh?"

Glaring, Derek smacked Mark in the side of the head.

Enrico edged closer to Addison. He didn't kiss her—after all, his nose was bloody—but he did cuddle her. Close to her ear, he said, _"Yo estube solamente medio vivo hasta el __momenta en que te conosi."_

Meredith spoke sotto voce. " 'I was only half alive until I met you.' " Her own heart fluttered. _How romantic._

Predictably, Addison melted. "Oh, Enrico."

_"Yo te amo." _His expression of love was plain to one and all, so Meredith didn't translate _I love you. _Enrico pulled Addison into his chest and began mumbling soft Spanish apologies mixed with more words of deep affec­tion.

Contented, Meredith went to the sink, got a clean dish towel, and reached over Enrico's shoulder to exchange with him.

He spared her a glance. His black eyes were solemn. _"Gracias."_

She turned to Derek with a huge smile and her own sheen of tears. "Isn't love grand?"

Mark looked at the ceiling and whistled.

Smiling, Derek hauled her close. "I thought your right hook was grand." As he led her out of the kitchen, he added, "I can't believe you wouldn't let me hit him, but you sure as hell didn't hold back."

Meredith blushed, especially when she heard Mark laughing again behind her. "I lost my temper." She shook her hand, looking for a tad of sympathy. "And it hurt, so you can be­lieve I won't do it again."

Derek lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. "If Mark is ready to call it a night, I'll take you home and . . . make you feel all better."

Mark gestured magnanimously. "Yeah, go on, Meredith. It's time to close up anyway."

"Are you sure?" Normally Meredith would have stayed till the very last minute. But it had been an eventful night, and they were leaving for LA in the morning. She was so excited, she could hardly contain herself.

Mark bent and kissed her forehead. "I'm positive. But don't forget to pick up your tips."

While Meredith collected money from the empty tables, Derek said his final good-byes to Andrew and Colman. A few minutes later, Enrico came out. He was no longer holding his nose, but it was swollen and red.

Andrew gave Enrico an incredulous look. Enrico ignored him. There was no sign of Addison. Meredith assumed they were still keeping their involvement secret. She shook her head, and now her sympathy was for Enrico as well.

The three men were still standing there when Derek called, "Meredith, you ready?"

She looked up in surprise. "Uh, yes."

"Come on, then. We can all walk out together."

Unsure of Derek's purpose, Meredith approached. Derek slipped his arm around her waist and gave her an affec­tionate squeeze. His actions announced to one and all that they were together.

Andrew's eyebrows rose, Colman grinned, and Enrico looked away.

Derek said, "Meredith and I are heading down to LA for the weekend, but when I get back, I'll see what I can do about the situation at the restaurant."

"Thank God," Andrew muttered, but he was still dis­tracted by Derek's possessive hold on Meredith.

"I'm not making any promises," Derek warned, "but Meredith is trying to make me feel guilty about the whole thing and I hate to disappoint her, so I'll see what I can do."

Meredith went very still as she considered Derek and what he'd said. He made it sound as though her wishes were im­portant to him. Meredith liked that, probably more than was sensible. But at the same time, she didn't want Derek to do anything for her that he wouldn't do for himself.

A lot had changed in one night.

Meredith wasn't at all sure what it meant, but it still made her heart swell, and it still made her foolishly hopeful. Because the more time she spent with Derek, the more she wanted to spend her whole life with him.

But Derek had been honest up front—he wanted her for sex, and only sex.

She wouldn't make him regret their bargain.

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	29. Chapter 29

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**So, after a long disappearance, I am back!**

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"Addison is a fool."

Derek hadn't meant to speak aloud, but as he watched Meredith unpack a long floral sarong, realizations bombarded him. Damn, but he'd fallen in love with Meredith. Or maybe he'd always loved her.

When he'd seen Deltorro eyeing her, his blood had boiled. When Andrew and Colman had eyed her in specu­lation, he'd been compelled to protect her, to make their relationship public. Unlike Addison, he wanted the world to know that Meredith was his.

Meredith brought sunshine into every room, and Derek had no doubt she'd somehow make a cardboard box feel cozy. He could probably sit in that same dark alley with Meredith and be content.

Meredith's impact on him was disturbing, and had at first scared Derek spitless. But he was getting used to it, accept­ing it. Derek snorted. Hell, he'd more than accepted it, he loved it. Long before Meredith had crawled into his bed, she'd been in his heart. He just hadn't dared to recognize his feelings, because recognizing them meant all his other plans had been awry. It would mean he'd put too much importance on the wrong things, that he'd been planning to marry the wrong woman.

He wouldn't make the same mistakes Addison made by try­ing to hide his feelings. He wouldn't let Meredith think he was ashamed of her.

Meredith glanced up, for once oblivious to his mood in her excitement about the small trip. "Addison's understandably afraid, but you know, I think Enrico is really in love with her. It hurts him that they have to sneak around."

There was no accusation in Meredith's tone, nothing to in­dicate how she felt about their present situation.

Derek had thoroughly enjoyed their little game of sex slave and master, but with every passing minute he wanted more.

He wanted everything.

"Meredith , would you be involved with a man you were ashamed of?"

Her gaze flew to his. She held the colorful sarong to her chest. "No, of course not." She looked confused for a mo­ment, then went back to unpacking.

Derek propped himself against the dresser and watched her. "Meredith?"

"Hmm?"

"You have a baby book on your shelf at home."

Her head lifted, their eyes met and held. Hot color flooded her face, and Meredith winced. "It's an old one."

"Yeah?" Derek couldn't look away from her. "How old?"

She fidgeted. "Um ... I got it when I was twenty."

"Why?"

Shrugging, she said, "A lot of the other women I knew then were seriously involved, engaged, getting married. It made me think about those . . . things."

Derek pushed away from the dresser and went to her. Being near Meredith and not touching her was almost impos­sible. Especially when discussing things like babies. He could so easily picture Meredith as a doting mother. The image of a tiny baby tugging hungrily at her nipple squeezed Derek's heart and made his lungs constrict.

He needed to know exactly how Meredith felt about him. "Do you think about all that still?"

Meredith actually winced; Derek had no idea what to make of that. Was she uncomfortable with his questioning? Was he crossing the line for her?

She replied carefully, her expression masked. "Right now, today, I'm just happy with how things are." She reached up to touch his jaw in a feather-light caress. "Very happy."

Derek was at a loss. With Addison, everyone had assumed they'd marry, and it was discussed around them quite often. He'd never been forced into a formal proposal.

With Meredith, it wouldn't be that easy. Not only was she far more complex than Addison, but she was also a stronger woman. She wouldn't marry a man for any reason other than love.

Did Meredith love him?

Derek watched her, wondering if her evasiveness was her subtle way of letting him know she didn't want to get mar­ried. He knew Meredith cared about him. He could still recall in vivid detail the way she'd rushed to his defense when Mary had disowned him. The memory of that would live with him forever.

But did Meredith care enough to tie herself to him for life? What could he offer her other than mind-blowing sex?

Just as Derek's past didn't matter to her, he knew his present situation of wealth and influence wouldn't matter either. What did Meredith see in him? What did she need from him?

Derek tried a different tack. "My mother seems to think we should give marriage some thought."

Meredith stiffened, then walked away from him. She opened the balcony doors and wandered out. She'd done that several times since their arrival, continually drawn by the ocean and the balmy breezes. This time felt different.

The sound of the ocean was a droning roar in Derek's ears. The air was humid and thick and fresh. Palm trees swayed in a gentle breeze. Derek followed her out.

Meredith had her face tipped up to the sun, and as he stepped up behind her, she said, "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

Derek braced his hands on the railing at either side of her waist, caging her in. He pressed his chest to her back and kissed her ear. Softly, he whispered, "You're beautiful, Meredith."

He could feel her smile. And her avoidance.

"Will we really make love out on the water?"

He kissed her neck, her shoulder. "We can make love anywhere you want to."

She put her head against his shoulder. "Where do you want to?"

Derek considered her question before answering. "When I was a young man, I'd screw anywhere. In the alley, at the theater, in the front and backseat of a car. Once, I took this girl in the rear of the subway with passengers sitting up front."

"Derek!"

He nuzzled her nape. "Back then, sex got so mundane, so boring, I needed the extra kick of maybe getting caught."

Meredith elbowed him hard. "So you're saying sex on the ocean is no big deal to you?"

Derek grinned and hugged her, restraining her arms so she couldn't prod him with that pointy elbow again. "I'm saying sex anywhere with you is great. No matter how many times we make love, Meredith, I just want you more."

Meredith went very still, not even breathing. Then, in the tone of voice he now knew signaled her arousal, she mur­mured, _"Derek."_

He reached around her and pressed his hand to her belly. Meredith was always soft, warm, and giving. If all they had was sex, he'd use that to win her over. He'd get her as addicted as he felt.

"Right here, Meredith?" A breeze lifted her hair, blew it back against his jaw. Derek stroked her as he felt his balls tightening, his blood heating. "You wanna watch the ocean while I fill you up? It's deep this way, Meredith, but you'll need my fingers"—he touched her suggestively— "right here, so you can come."

Her bottom pressed and wiggled back into his groin. She wore only a thin sundress, and the feeling was incred­ible. Breathlessly, she said, "Okay, sure."

Derek almost laughed. Meredith was always so willing, so eager, she amazed him. "Think you can be real quiet while you come? The people on the beach might wonder what you're doing if you start making all those sexy little noises I love so much."

"I'll be quiet," she promised, and wiggled again, trying to urge him to hurry.

Derek lifted the back of her skirt. He stroked her thighs, her bottom, slid her panties down her legs until they dropped to her ankles. All the while, he kissed her throat, her ear, the nape of her neck, her shoulders.

When Meredith was ready, he opened his slacks and freed his cock. For the first time, Derek resented putting on a condom, but he knew he'd never risk Meredith's feelings that way. If and when she wanted more from him, then they'd discuss it further.

But as he slowly sank into her, he couldn't stop himself from saying, "You'd be an incredible mother, Meredith."

Meredith groaned and clenched around him. Derek wasn't sure she'd even heard his words. If she had, she didn't comment.

"Push back, Meredith. That's it. Now brace your feet apart so you can take my thrusts."

Within minutes Meredith was ready to climax. Derek reached between her legs and touched her just right, then had to use his other hand to muffle her shout of release. In the next instant, he closed his mouth over her shoulder to hide his own raw groans of completion.

They both slumped forward on the railing.

After a moment, Meredith giggled. "Derek," she whispered, sounding scandalized. "We have to move."

"No. Can't." His legs were awkwardly braced, and if he moved, he'd fall on his face. Thinking of babies and forever-after while Meredith milked him dry had zapped him of strength.

"People are looking," she insisted.

Derek cocked one eye open. Sure enough, people below were glancing their way curiously. He smiled. "Nosy bas­tards." He was still inside her, as closely connected as two people could be, and he hated to pull out. "They're just jealous that I'm the one here with you."

"Yeah, right." Meredith chuckled again, but Derek also heard the hint of embarrassment.

He slipped out of her, patted her rear, and said, "Marry me, Meredith."

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	30. Chapter 30

**Hi.**

**So finally, I update... Sorry for the delay**

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He nearly groaned as he heard the echo of his own words— and Meredith's stunned silence.

Damn, he really had to quit blurting things out like that. Sex had never before made him melodramatic, but sex with Meredith did insane things to him.

Meredith suddenly whipped around to face him and almost tripped because her panties were twisted around her an­kles. Her eyes were huge when Derek caught her.

"Hold on, sweetheart." He bent and held the under­wear as Meredith stepped free.

Without a word, she hurried around him and back through the doors to the bedroom.

"Are we playing tag here, Meredith?" He followed her back inside, but halted by the door. Meredith was pacing.

Derek hated to admit it, but he felt very uncertain. Meredith didn't look overcome with joy at his proposal. No, she looked dumbfounded and ill at ease. His stomach roiled.

"Meredith?"

Her hands were clenched together when she turned to face him. "Mathew Dean and Jessica Marie."

"What?"

"Those are the names I decided on, from the baby book. I wanted two children, a boy and a girl. Matt and Jessie."

Derek watched her. "Good names. I like them."

"I know it'd be tricky to have one boy and one girl. But remember, this was just the ideal. If it was two boys, or two girls, I'd still be thrilled. I just wouldn't want to stop at one." She looked up, her expression earnest. "Children should have siblings. They should never be alone."

"I agree." A battalion of kids would be fine by him, as long as Meredith was the mother.

"I pictured them as average, healthy, happy kids. They'd run around and be noisy and play, and I'd love every single minute with them."

Derek would love every minute with them, too. "As I said, you'd make a great mom."

"I hope so." She turned away, and tension radiated off her. Her head dropped, her voice lowered. "Derek, I can't marry you."

Her words hit him like a punch in the gut. "You don't think I'd make a good father. I barely had one, so I've barely seen how it should be."

"No!" She whirled to face him, now taut with anger. "That's not it at all. I think you'd make a wonderful fa­ther. You'd love your children and guide them and ..."

"Then you think I'd make a lousy husband?"

Meredith rubbed her forehead. "You'd make a wonderful husband, too." And with some acerbity, "How could you think otherwise?"

"What am I supposed to think, Meredith?"

She stormed up to him. "It isn't about you, Derek. It's about me. All my life I've been boring. I've been ignored and overlooked."

"I find that so hard to believe, Meredith."

She shook her head, making her hair whip around. "But it's true. Before they passed away, my parents were disap­pointed with me. I was the opposite of them. Other kids weren't exactly mean, but they didn't go out of their way to befriend me either. And guys always ig­nored me."

"I haven't ignored you."

"No. But you're the first man who's ever wanted me. And now other men seem to be noticing me, too. It's all so new and so fun. Better than fun."

Derek barely got the words out. "You want to fool around with other men, is that it?" Like hell. He'd find a way to get that idea out of her head real fast.

"No!" She looked genuinely stunned that he'd come to such a conclusion, and Derek managed to relax. "It's flat­tering, but that's all. I'm not interested in other men."

"That's good, Meredith, because I'm not about to share."

She scowled. "I wasn't asking you to. I like what _we _have, Derek. I like your attention and I love having sex with you." She bit her lip, blinked hard. "It's ... it's enough for me. Please try to understand."

Oh, he understood well enough. Meredith wanted nothing more from him than sex. Derek almost laughed at the irony of it.

Meredith gave him exactly what he'd asked of her, when al­most from the first he'd known it wouldn't be enough. Meredith was sunshine and happiness and loyalty, the type of woman who made a man better, more complete. She was sexiness personified, real and caring and good deep down to her soul.

She was everything to him, and he'd blown it.

Derek wanted to rage, to shake her. But Meredith stepped up to him and hugged him tight. "You're very important to me, Derek. I've always cared about you, you have to be­lieve that. But this is all so new, so ... unexpected." She looked up at him and smiled. "Let me enjoy it, please?"

He'd die for her, so how could he refuse her now? Derek touched her warm cheek, smoothed her long, thick hair. "Anything you want, Mer."

Her eyes darkened with deliberate suggestion. In an ef­fort to relieve the tension between them, she teased, "That's the spirit."

Derek managed a smile over his aching sense of loss.

_Amazing Meredith. _How long would she be content with him? The thought of her with another man put him into a rage. He couldn't, wouldn't, let that happen. He'd keep Mer so sexually satisfied, so limp and sated, she wouldn't have the strength to look at other men. "Tell me what you want, honey."

"I want what you promised. Sex on the beach, on the ocean. I want to explore Los Angeles and see your condo. I want to enjoy _you, _all of you. I want to pack as much plea­sure into this weekend as we can."

_And then what? _Derek wanted to ask. Instead, he said, "You got it."

The panicked shadows left Meredith's dark gaze and the strain eased from her face. "Where do we start?"

He squeezed her waist and kissed the tip of her nose. "I'll rent a boat." He stepped toward the desk and the phone book. "You can get into your bikini."

Meredith blushed. "I already told you that's not going to happen. But I get this nice tank suit."

Derek looked her over as she pulled the suit from her case and held it up in front of her body. He nodded. "That'll be fine." Then he added, "I'll have it off you in no time anyway."

Meredith drew in a shuddering breath. "I'm counting on it."

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